The Phantom of Las Noches
by OneWhoCharms
Summary: Orihime Inoue has spent her life in Las Noches Opera house. After the death of her brother she begins to receive lessons in singing from The Angel of Music. Soon strange things begin to happen in the Opera house, and they all might relate to this mysterious Angel.
1. Overture

**Hello Everyone, and welcome my latest fic!**

 **First of I would just like to say thank you to my wonderful beta-reader Shi-Daisy for her help.**

 **And as for the obvious, I of course do not own either Phantom of the Opera or Bleach.**

 **I hope you all enjoy this story, and please remember to follow, favourite and review :)**

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Leaning against the railings on the ship's deck, Orihime watched the water turn white and transform into small waves against the side of the ship as it's hull cut through the surface of the water. It was the last day of her journey and Orihime had opted to spend the last of her time on board soaking up the smell of the sea air and listening to the winds and waves. A sudden gust of wind from behind her blew Orihime's fox fur coloured hair into her face. The metal of the railings and the Baltic winds had all but froze Orihime's hands to blocks of ice but she still managed to lift them up to pull the locks out of her face. Amongst the shifting of the red strands, her fingers felt the solidness of her hairpins. Orihime bit her lip at the sudden jolt of pain that beat through her heart at the feel of them, working her numb fingers as best she could, she pulled the blue flower shaped pins away from her temples and fastened the two of them onto the lapel of her coat, patting her hand where they lay over her heart.

"Sora." The mourning girl whispered the name was quickly swallowed up by the wind. Hot tears began slipping down her face but she didn't even try to stop them, Orihime decided that she would do all her crying now, so her friends wouldn't see.

Although she had been born in Germany, Orihime Inoue had spent most of her life in Spain, or more accurately in the Las Noches Opera House, with her older brother Sora. Orihime didn't remember her parents very well, and what she did remember of them made her understand why her brother had been willing at such a young age to run away from home with his toddler sister. Some of Orihime's earliest memories were set on the streets watching her big brother play for the hope of pennies from passing strangers and then huddling together at night for warmth. Until one day a man with a walking stick and a funny hat had sat down across the street from where the children had been that day and listened to Sora perform every song he knew how to play, when Sora finally took a break to rest his fingers the man offered what would be her brothers first round of applause. His name was Urahara Kisuke, and he apparently had an eye for spotting talent. He offered Sora a chance, to hone his music, to fulfill his potential, to get far away from Düsseldorf. Maybe they were just that hungry, but to both Sora and Orihime at the time, Urahara had been like an angel to them, whisking them away from the misery they'd been born into and into the beauty of the Las Noches Opera house. At first, the sibling's time had been spent doing odd jobs around the building, mostly cleaning and acting as stagehands during rehearsal. But all the time Sora was also receiving training in his music from the musicians, and by the time Orihime was fifteen, Sora was working as a violinist in the orchestra pit. Around the same time, she had started training with the ballet troupe under the tutelage of the opera's Prima ballerina Yoruichi Shihoin as well as the dance mistress Tier Harribel. When Orihime was seventeen was when she met two of her closest friends Rukia and Uryu, Rukia was a fellow dancer, joining the ballet troupe after years of personal training, and Uryu had made himself at home in the opera house as the costume designer, the spectacled young man had no interest in working on stage but no one could deny he made some of the most beautiful dresses you would ever see.

And it was during the summers that Ichigo would come to visit. His father was apparently an old friend of Uruhara which meant his family often spent their summers traveling to visit him. Ichigo, Orihime, Rukia, and Ishida had all been around the same age so naturally, they spent most of their free time together. Even all these years later she couldn't help the small upward tilt of her lips at the memories of him, Ichigo Kurosaki, her first love unrequited. Her childish heart had been filled to the brim with adoration for the boy who'd seemed so fearless yet kind, even after the logical part of her mind had realized that he would never love her as anything more than a dear friend, sometimes you just couldn't help how you felt. That being said Orihime wasn't a fool, she saw how Ichigo had started to look at Rukia. Even just last year...

Orihime almost wanted to laugh when she thought about how she really should have known better, life at Las Noches with her friends and brother, it was too good to be true. No. Rather it was too good to last, so when Sora's health had started to fail, Orihime really should have known better than to get her hopes up that he would recover because he had to recover because he was her big brother, and please don't leave me alone Sora-

He had died around this time last year. The family they had made for themselves at Las Noches had all been there for the siblings, during the entirety of Sora's sickness, from the moment he became bedridden to the moment it became apparent that he wasn't going to get better. The night when her brother's breath had stilled and his hand had gone limp in hers, Orihime had spent hours weeping into Rukia's shoulder. Sora had had just one request about his burial, that he wanted his body to be returned to Japan so that he could be buried near their Grandfather. Orihime had never been to her mother's homeland but she couldn't deny Sora his last request. The whole voyage had taken just under a year. Easily the worst year of her life. But Orihime was still able to find it in herself to wipe away the wet tracks on her face as she spotted the shape of the coastline on the approaching.

This last year may have felt like rock bottom, it may have felt like she was going to break a couple of days where the loneliness had been particularly crushing. But she didn't break, she had struggled on and now she was standing here, it almost felt like a triumph. The red-haired girl slapped her cheeks a few times to really wake herself up. Her name was Orihime Inoue, and she was going home.

xxXXxx

Orihime had made her way from the docks, through the city, and to Las Noches by herself. She'd written in the last letter she'd sent before leaving that she should be arriving home sometime today, but she knew how busy the theater life could get so she hadn't been expecting anyone to meet her as she got off the ship. Orihime had a little money from before she'd left still on her so she'd hired a carriage to take her across town, when Las Noches finally came into view she leaned out the window so far she'd nearly fallen out. The building was a monument unto itself, all white sanded down stone and carved out windows that seemed black from the shadows they cast. The architecture of the building had a very rounded feel to it, the main structure which she knew was the actual theater was a massive dome, surrounded by multiple cylindrical towers, a few of them she knew had balconies on their roofs. Orihime always considered Las Noches to be a bit of a contradiction, on the outside it seemed rather plain, no sculptures or gargoyles adorning the walls and roof lines, no bright eye-catching paint job or gold embellishment. Anyone who didn't know any better might have suspected it was some kind of dessert church or temple from an ancient civilization that had been dropped in the middle of the modern era.

Lugging her suitcase up the steps towards the main entrance was a bit of a challenge for her skinny arms, Orihime realised it might have been a wiser idea to go in through the stage door but Orihime wanted to see the lobby again, she wanted to experience Las Noches the way it was meant to be seen. The inside of Las Noches looked even less like an opera house than the outside did, to Orihime it looked more like a castle, the floors and grand staircase were made out of white and pale yellow marble, the gas lamps that hung from the ceiling and stood at the end of the bannisters had extravagant glass shades, sunlight poured in from the large windows at the front of the building illuminated the foyer, there was gold worked into the moldings and fixtures in the walls giving off an aura of regalness that seemed to give the building itself personality.

After taking a few minutes to admire the place that had only been a memory for the last year, and let it sink in that she was back, Orihime heard music seeping through the wood of the doors leading into the theater. Both hands were occupied with the handle of her suitcase so she heaved her shoulder against the heavy door, it sighed as she pushed it open, like she had awoken it from a nap.

Rehearsals were in full swing music was blaring out from the orchestra pit and actors were busy moving themselves around onstage, trying to familiarise themselves with the choreography of the scene. From the back row Orihime could only pick out two of the actors as people she recognized, and that was completely thanks to their bright blue and turquoise hair, Nel and Grimmjow had joined the theater troupe around the time Orihime was seventeen. As she walked down the aisle and got closer to the stage she could see their posture more clearly, the scene must have been a ballroom or some kind of dance, because Grimmjow was leading Nel around the stage in an imitation of a waltz, Grimmjow was perpetually scowling as always, but the smirk of Nel's face suggested she was saying something to him to egg on one of his usual eruptions. Orihime admitted to being confused by the two's behaviour, they worked well together but seemed on the surface to barely get along, Grimmjow on first meeting him seemed like the kind of man any responsible adult figure in your life would advise you to steer clear of, and Nel spent half her time being wise and sisterly and the other half acting like a… well a child. But over time she'd gotten to know them Orihime liked to think the three of them were on friendly terms. Tucked away in the corner of the stage Orihime saw the familiar faces of Rukia, Nemu, Yoruichi and Soi Fon going through their warm-ups. Yoruichi and Soi Fon were already dancing, spinning around each other and bending their bodies in ways the Orihime knew could make men's (and women's) eyes bug out of their skulls. Nemu was at the ballet bar her form was always perfect, her legs and arms were straight as planks, her usual braid swung over her shoulder as she leaned back and forth, Rukia was on the floor doing stretches, she grabbed her right leg by the calf and began rolling her ankle. Rukia was the first to spot her, sensing a presence amongst the seats, the raven-haired girl flicked her eyes upwards and Orihime knew the moment her friend had spotted her because Rukia's eyes blew up like balloons and she shot up into a sitting position.

"Orihime?!" Rukia exclaimed.

This grabbed the attention of the rest of the dancers, as well as Grimmjow and Nel on the other end of the stage. Orihime ran the rest of the way towards the stage so she could be right in front of her friends.

"Hi Guys!" Orihime grinned.

"What are you doing here?" Rukia asked in shock, now on her knees leaning over the gas lamps that lined the stage.

Orihime felt a sweat drop roll down her temple, letting out a nervous chuckle she set down her suitcase, freeing one hand to scratch at the back of her head, "Not, uh, quite the reaction I was expecting."

"No, no!" Rukia was quick to amend herself, waving her hands in front of her, "I just mean that we weren't expecting you back so soon. Your last letter only said you'd be back sometime this month/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Orihime pursed her lips and furrowed her eyebrows together, "But in the last letter I sent I said it should be sometime this week, and I sent just before I left so it must have been right."

A third voice joined into the conversation, "Um, Orihime?" Yoruichi spoke gently, as the Prima Ballerina walked forward and crouched in front of the redhead, unlike Nemu and Rukia who were wearing their practice skirts Yoruichi (like always) was wearing a suit of tight-fitting black spandex. "When you say you sent that letter right before you left, what exactly do you mean?" The older woman asked.

"I mean just that." Orihime assured, "I left it into the post office the day before… I… left. Oh."

A small awkward silence hung in the air as Orihime realized her mistake.

"Well, it's not a big deal." Yoruichi waved her hand as she spoke as if giving official confirmation that what she said was true. "We're all just glad to have you back.

"Absolutely!" Rukia agreed, jumping off the stage to wrap her friend in a hug, Orihime readily returned the gesture, finally feeling some warmth chase away the cold that had been making a home for itself in her chest.

"Welcome home." Nemu said in her usual quiet, even voice.

"It is better to have the full company again." Soi Fon said in a tone that wasn't unkind, this was actually a pretty warm welcome by her standards.

After she and Rukia ended their hug Orihime bent down to pick up her suitcase again, "I should probably go let Mr. Yamomoto know that I'm back."

"Oh don't worry about that." Yoruichi dismissed, "He doesn't need to know your back right away, besides pretty soon I doubt you'll need to tell him anything." The Prima snickered that last part.

"That's only a rumor." Soi Fon argued.

Orihime cocked her head to the side, "What are you talking about?"

But Yoruichi and Soi Fon had fallen into an 'argument' amongst themselves, their arguments usually consisted of Yoruichi teasing Soi Fon and the latter getting flustered.

"Don't mind them," Rukia said from her place at Orihime's side, "I'll tell you at dinner. But Yoruichi's right, you don't have to do anything right now. And you're probably tired from your journey right? So go get some rest.

The idea of lying down on a bed that didn't rock with the waves was tempting, but there was something Orihime wanted to do even more.

The redhead smiled down at her friend, "I think I'll do that."

Rukia informed Orihime that her bed and all her things were still where she'd left them in the ballet dormitory before climbing back onto the stage. Orihime made her way out of the theatre and around the back of the building to the dormitories. Long lines of single wire framed beds filled the small space, it might have looked unorganized and cramped to a stranger but Orihime knew the careful walkways to use if you wanted to make your way around the floor without stepping on anything.

Her bed was pressed up against the back wall next to the one Rukia slept in when she was staying over at the Opera house and not at her family home. Orihime loved where her bed was situated, it was right underneath one of the circular windows that dotted north facing walls which meant that on some nights at just the right time the moon would rise into the center like it was filling up the window, her bed was also tucked behind one of the load bearing posts that also doubled as a coat rack, some might have thought this made the bed cut off or, again, cramped, but Orihime thought it was cosy, like sleeping inside a box.

After unpacking her suitcase and changing into one of her lighter dresses, Orihime grabbed a candle and a matchbook from her small chest of drawers and made her way downstairs to the opera chapel. like most of the rooms that had been made when the Opera house was first built, the chapel seemed to be carved into the stone that the rest of Las Noches was made out of, the was a simple archway for a door with a small cross and the word 'Capilla', painted over the top, a set of stone steps lead you into a downward spiral until you came to the small room that served to cater to whatever religious needs you might have. You might have been lead to believe you were underground entirely if it weren't for the stained glass windows that illuminated the space. The chapel fits the first impression of a desert church, almost completely barren except for the colours of the windows and the iron set of memorial candles held up on iron candelabra. Each one had a small portrait attached to it with a name inscribed onto the frame, each one was in memory of an opera house member that had passed away. Some were as old as the building itself, but one was still new enough that the portrait was almost dust free.

Sora Inoue. The small letters read, they curled around her brothers smiling face. Working the melted down candle out of its holder, Orihime replaced it with the new one she had brought, the match lit with a hiss as she struck it against the strip on the back of the book before lowering it to the wick and watching the wick burn inside the flame.

Orihime said a silent prayer for her brother and sat in silence for a few moments out of respect the memories of those named here, but her thoughts only lingered in that place for so long before the question burned itself into the front of her mind.

 _Is he here?_

Anytime Orihime had left the opera house for longer than a few days, or she hadn't been able to break away from rehearsals or her friends long enough to come down here by herself, a small part of her always feared that the next time she descended the stone steps she would find herself alone in these chapel walls. With that thought the air suddenly felt thicker, making Orihime afraid to open her mouth and speak, what if she called out and no answer came.

"You've returned."

All worries and anxieties shattered at the familiar sound of that voice. The one that seemed to resonate from no particular spot in the room yet felt like it was all around her. Even though she wasn't sure if he could see it, her face broke out into a happy grin. Her teacher, her angel of music.

"Yes, Angel." She responded.

For years this chapel had held a secret importance to Orihime, it was the one secret she'd ever kept in her life, even from Sora. He and others had tried to get her to confess the name of the person who had been giving her singing lessons but after she'd shown her resolution to continually wave off their attempts, they eventually gave up.

The voice was deep and melodic, the first time Orihime had heard him she'd been scared for a number of reasons, one of them being that he always sounded like he was just a bit upset when he spoke at first it was usually only halfway into their lessons that he sounded more relaxed. And even then his tone didn't give you a clue to the musical talent that was attached to that voice.

"Did you continue your practice?" He asked her plainly, the angel wasn't really one for meandering or small talk. He always spoke so directly.

Orihime swallowed and nipped at her bottom lip, "Almost the entire time I was gone." She told him honestly. She hadn't been able to practice everyday but when she found the time she would seclude herself in an empty space, close her eyes and pretend to be right back here, with her unseen tutor listening to her progress, sometimes she even found herself doing this as she curled up in bed when she's struggled to fall asleep, quietly singing the songs he'd taught her to herself and imagining this could summon him across the seas to her.

"Hmm." Was the angels only response.

Orihime offered up one of her bubbly laughs, getting ready to start rambling about the times she had practiced when she was away, when the angel spoke again, cutting her off before she even started.

"Show me." Was all he said.

"Pardon?"

"Show me how you've improved."

Not _if_ she'd improved, _how._ That small bit of confidence was enough to make Orihime suck in a deep breath of air before launching into her scales. Her voice had been sweet sounding but wavering before she'd met the angel, now the sound of her mezzo-soprano filled up the room and bounced off the walls. At the end, Orihime pressed her hand to her stomach to feel her body clench as she stretched out the final note. When she stopped singing the room felt quieter than it had before, as her breathing returned to normal, Orihime awaited the angel's response. As the second's tick by she found herself wishing again that she had a face to look at, expressions to decern and help her decipher her teacher's thoughts went he went silent like this. So she slid her eyes to a faded mural on the far wall, at one time it might have shown a scene from the bible or some such but so much of the paint had faded or chipped away that all that was left visible was, fittingly, a single angel. Orihime often found herself looking to the image when she and her teacher conversed.

"Perfect." Came the whispered voice of the angel. Orihime perked at the sound of that one word, thinking she might have misheard him, "Your talent hasn't wavered." The angel spoke again quickly as if he too had just realized what he said.

Orihime giggled a little, imagining what expression the angel might have on his face. "I'm glad to hear that."

"Sing again." The angel instructed. This was how it would go sometimes if he said something he apparently hadn't thought about or Orihime asked him a question he didn't want to answer.

"What would you like me to sing? I saw the posters outside, the opera house is performing Hannibal." Orihime suggested.

"I have been listening to them rehearse Hannibal for months. You've been gone for a year., I want to hear you sing.

Orihime blushed a little, then she realized what he was requesting and smiled again at the angel on the wall. It had become a sort of game between the two of them, the angel often taught her foreign songs from far away lands, as a sort of thank you Orihime had 'composed' a few short songs of her own, simple things that could probably be sung along to the tune of a music box, but she had wanted to show him how grateful she was for his lessons, and Orihime felt that creating something musical of her own might have been the best way to do so. And apparently it had worked, because since then the angel had often asked her to sing those same songs for him, there's was never any consistency to his requests for them, sometimes he would ask to hear them one lesson after another, sometimes it would be weeks apart, and sometimes he asked to hear them before they even started their lessons, or even when he had nothing to say to her but just wanted to listen to her voice.

So Orihime prepared herself, repositioning herself so she sat directly in front of her angel picture, and lifting one hand to touch the flower pins that were back in her hair.

 _"Angel of Music,_

 _Guide and guardian, grant to me your glory,_

 _Angel of music, speak I listen,_

 _Secret and strange Angel."_


	2. Think of me

**Welcome back to chapter two everyone!**

 **Once again I'd like to thank my awesome beta-reader Shi-Daisy for not only editing this chapter and helping me with the Spanish words, but also for making the lovely cover art you'll see we now have.**

 **I'd also like to thank LeeHimeChan and ulquihime7980 for favouriting this story.**

 **And LeeHimeChan, QueenChristine17, Random45Person, and ulquihime7980 for following.**

 **And special thanks to Nii-sama97, Savi, and Kira4Schiffer for their reviews on last chapter.**

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A week of rehearsals and dress fittings later and it was like Orihime had never left. It felt comforting to slip back into a regular routine, early mornings and late nights, meals were small but there were many of them throughout the day to keep stamina up. The opening night of Hannibal was tomorrow so they were now at costumes and prop stage of rehearsals. The dancers dress for the first act was bright and gauzy, made up of ribbons and sashes of multicolored, gold and bronze fabric. Finishing the tying of her ballet slippers, Orihime pushed her way in front of the full body mirror in the ballerinas shared dressing room, pinching the waistband of her skirt she hiked it further up her figure so that the hemline fluttered around her ankles instead of her feet. All the ballerina's changed from their casual attire into their dance costumes, unaware of the small drilled hole in their wall that was often a favorite spot of Nnoitra Gilga.

Noticing the flurry of motion in the background of the mirror Orihime grabbed her pair of fake manacles that they would be using in the first act and followed her friends out the door and into the hallway. Joining the flow of the opera's lifeblood.

For as big as the building was it always seemed to feel crowded when everyone was at work. Bouncing down the spiral staircase that led them backstage, the ballerina's subconsciously fell into a single file line, each making a pit stop to dust the tips of their dancing shoes with grip chalk before making their way on stage. Harribel was already waiting for them of course, in her usual high collar dress and one hand on the shark tooth-shaped cane head of her walking stick (which no one believed she needed).

"Positions girls!" The dance mistress called out to them. They all fell into the position they'd be in for the start of the opening number. The rest of the cast was waiting in the wings, including Las Noches' very own Prima Donna Ciruuci Sanderwicci.

The entire theatre seemed to hold its breath in anticipation, Orihime imagined the seats in the audience were filled with people, leaning forward in their chairs trying to guess if the music would swell up in the orchestra pit or burst out and shatter the tension in the air.

There was a thundering of drums, a crash of cymbals and the music came to life. The voices of the chorus filled the stage, a victorious score with a steady beat as if the music was marching on stage with the actors. The ballet troupe weaved around each other, they were playing the slave girls, the handmaids, when she got to the part of the dance she felt most familiar with Orihime allowed herself to close her eyes for a moment, humming along to the chorus line of the song. The red-haired dancer was snapped out of her musings by the sound of a familiar voice.

"Señor Dordoni, our principal tenor, he does play very well opposite Señorita Ciruuci." Mr. Yamamoto was explaining.

Doing her best not to fall out of rhythm with the others, Orihime snuck an over the shoulder glance at the opera house manager, and the two gentlemen he was leading across the stage. One she recognized as Mr. Urahara, but the identity of the second was a mystery to her. He was about the same height as Urahara, he had slicked back brown hair except for one strand that fell down the left of his face, he wore an incredibly well-made suit with white trimmings. He strode across the stage as if he wasn't being led along like there was no need to explain everything to him because he already knew everything. His head turned this way and that, taking in the sights while Yamamoto talked, but then his eyes cut over to Orihime in a razor-quick motion, surely he was just watching the dance routine, but in that moment Orihime felt like he was pinning her down with gaze, it was startling enough sensation that Orihime under-rotated her pirouette and her foot slipped out from under her.

Orihime steadied herself at the last second and jumped back into time with the others, but not before Harribel noticed her literal slip up.

"Focus Orihime!" The dance mistress intoned with a bang of her stick against the ground.

"We take particular pride in the excellence of our ballets." Came Yamamoto's voice, the three of them were now standing beside Harribel, watching the ballet.

Harribel, never taking her eyes of the dancers, lifted up her cane in a baring motion, "Gentlemen, please. If you would move to one side?"

"Of course! My apologies, Madame Harribel." Urahara laughed off with a good-natured wave of his fan, "Our dance mistress." He whispered to his brunette friend.

The unknown gentleman didn't respond in any way, watching the ballet with calculating eyes, "May I ask after the young lady with the lovely red hair?" He asked Urahara in a deep attention drawing voice.

"Orihime Inoue, quite the little ball of potential, spends most of her time in the ballet but we have managed to pull her into the women's chorus before, background work only of course," Urahara answered.

"Inoue. Didn't you have a violinist by that name?"

"Her brother, passed away last year. Very sad, very sad." Urahara replied with a shake of his head, hiding the lower half of his face with his fan.

"And she has no other relatives?" When Urahara shook his head again the dark-haired man turned his eyes back on Orihime like a scientist inspecting something under a microscope. "Poor girl, all alone in the world."

"I would not say she is alone," Harribel spoke up, drawing the brunette's attention but she still never looked at him. "Orihime is considered a member of the family Las Noches has made for itself. Also miss Kuchiki, in particular, thinks of her as a sister." Harribel raised her cane to point Rukia out in the formation

"Kuchiki?" The brunette repeated something like recognition in his voice.

"You may have heard of her elder brother, the chief of police?"

"Yes." He agreed simply, the two shared a tense smile and Orihime suppressed the urge to giggle.

While those two were having their conversation, Yamamoto moved to the middle of the front of the stage, "Ladies and Gentleman, your attention please!" He announced in a loud voice that instantly drew everyone's attention.

Everyone on stage stopped what they were doing and formed a lazy semi-circle around Yamamoto, Urahara and their guest.

"As I'm sure many of you have heard the rumors by now, I am indeed retiring from my position as manager of the Las Noches opera house." The elderly man announced.

His words were met with a general reaction of gasps, widened eyes, and mutterings. Except for Yoruichi who just elbowed Soi Fon in the ribs, giving her dance partner an 'I told you so' look.

"It is my pleasure to introduce you to the two men who now own Las Noches, the first of whom you are already familiar with, our casting consultant Mr. Kisuke Urahara," There was a round of applause (and a wolf whistle from Yoruichi), "and a newer addition to these halls, Mr. Souske Aizen."

So that was the stranger's name. There was another round of applause, but this one more polite and formal, Aizen showed no sign of this bothering him though, he even did a small bow to the company.

There was a small scuffling to Orihime's left, she turned her head just in time to see Ciruuci pushing her way to the front of the crowd. She was dressed in full costume and makeup, her purple hair was piled up on top of her head, styled as much as it could be with its curly texture. Her dress was a sharp contrast to the ballet costumes, and even to Dordoni in his Roman armor, she was all purples and metallic black, with a sheen of glitter painted across her upper face.

"Of course," Yamamoto did his best to disguise his sigh, "gentlemen, our Prima Donna for five seasons now, Ciruuci Sanderwicci."

Ciruuci waltzed across the stage to Aizen and Urahara, holding her hand out in an invitation for the gentlemen to kiss it. Aizen held her hand gently and bowed his head in greeting.

"An honor Señorita." He told her with a suave smile.

"And Dordoni Alessandro." Yamamoto gestured to the male tenor who was following in Ciruuci's footsteps.

"He shook hands with both Urahara and Aizen, Aizen offering a courteous "Señor."

Harribel stood at the very end of the crowd, watching but detached from the fanfare, so she was the only one who noticed the small fluttering motion of something white falling from the rafters. Shifting her eyes around to see if anyone else would notice her moving away from the crowd, she slipped away from them on silent feet. Bending down to pick up what turned out to be a white envelope with a familiar wax seal.

 **Sousuke Aizen & Urahara Kisuke**, was written on the front in swift pen strokes.

Back at the center of attention, Aizen was making the easy discovery that the best way to a divas heart was through her ego. "If I remember correctly, Elissa has a rather fine aria in act three. I wonder señorita if as a personal favor, you might oblige us with a private rendition?"

Ciruuci offered a haughty, pleased laugh, "Well, if my manager commands. Mr. Starkk, two bars introduction please." She called out into the orchestra pit.

Her answer as a resounding silence. Ciruuci tried to cover it up with a brief laugh, "Mr. Starkk!" She called out again, her voice going up a pitch.

This time her answer was a snore. Ciruuci, Urahara and Aizen leaned over to look into the orchestra, to see the conductor Coyote Starkk asleep in his chair.

"Starkk!" A small voice hissed, as the green head of Starkk's daughter Lilinette poked out from under the drums. Scrambled over and tugged on his sleeve, when that didn't work she pinched his nose and covered his mouth until the need for air woke him up

"Wha?" He slurred as he woke with a start. Turning his eyes upward to see the three sets of eyes burning into him, "Uh..."

Lilinette whispered into his ear, Starkk promptly stood up to his music stand, flipping the sheet music to Elissa's aria. "Will two bars introduction be enough?" He asked Ciruuci as if the Prima Donna wasn't glaring daggers at him.

"Yes maestro." She said tightly, all but stomping back to center stage.

Starkk signaled to the musicians, and the song came to life, on stage Cirucci slipped effortlessly into the character of Elissa. Orihime watched her carefully, the way she commanded the area, capturing the attention of everyone around her, she dreamed of being able to sing like that. She'd been told she had a good singing voice before, Sora had called her voice beautiful when she used to sing along with his violin, and the angel had called her talented, "talented, but untrained" he always emphasized. But Orihime doubted she'd ever find herself standing in the lime light like that.

Ciruuci raised her arms and sucked in a breath as she started her solo.

 _"Think of me,_

 _think of me fondly,_

 _When we've said goodbye._

 _Remember me, once in a while-_

 _Promise me you'll try."_

Ciruuci's voice was well trained, and rippled with signs of all her experience. It reached out into the seats and raised high up towards the domed ceiling. Say what you want about the woman, (and a lot of things were said) but you couldn't deny her talent.

 _"When you find_

 _that, once_

 _again you long_

 _to take your heart_ \- aaaagghh!"

Her singing was cut off in a scream as the back drop that had been hanging halfway up in the rafters came crashing downwards and landed on the stage with a deafening bang as the painted scenery landed on top of Ciruuci.

There were brief shrieks of surprise as everyone nearby dashed into the wings, Orihime felt herself being grabbed around the arms by Yoruichi as she felt herself being dragged backwards.

"He's here."

""It's the ghost."

"The phantom of the opera."

The panicked whispers flew around the air like wasps, Orihime felt like she was hearing all of it from under water though as she watched Dordoni scramble to pull Ciruuci out from under the piece of scenery.

"Ciruuci? Are you all right?" Dordoni asked as he frantically checked his partner for injuries, but she waved him off signaling she was fine.

"Where's Gilga?! Get him down here!" Yamamoto bellowed.

"Gilga?" Aizen leaned over to ask Urahara, not seemingly concerned with the close shave his Prima Donna just had.

"Nnoitra Gilgga. Chief of flies." Urahara replied, his eyes scanning the rafters.

A few moments later, the man in question slunk out from the wings. His long black hair was tucked behind his ears and he had his teeth bared in his usual smug grin

"What is the meaning of this? What was going on up there?" Yamamoto asked incensed.

Nnoitra held up a stray piece of rope that looked like it had been gone fuzzy at the end, "Don't look at me sir, god as my witness I was not by the flies for that backdrop when it fell, and there was no one else up there that I could see, and if there was... well," the chief of flies chuckled with morbid humour, "it must have been a ghost."

There was another ripple of hushed mummers ran through the company again.

"It really is him," Rukia whispered to Orihime, "the phantom of the opera."

"Does anyone care that I almost just died?!" Ciruuci screeched, drawing the attention of the managers back to her

"Forgive us señorita," Urahara tried to clasp her hand in appeasement, "but these things happen, yes?"

Ciruuci swatted his hands away and thrust her face within an inch of his, "Sí! These things do happen, and until you stop them from happening, this thing," she pointed frantically at herself, "Will not be happening. Because I. Will not. Be. Singing!"

With that Ciruuci spun on her heel and began marching away, Dordoni dutifully following her. But not before spitting an "Amateurs." At the new theater managers.

"And on that note gentlemen, I think I will leave you." Yamamoto gave one last nod to his company before making his way for the stairs. "Good luck. If you should need me, I shall be in Australia." He called over to Aizen and Urahara as his parting words.

A dozen pairs of anxious eyes fixed on the two men.

Not even swayed, Aizen gave them the casual assurance, "Ms. Sanderwicci will be back."

"You think so Señor?" Harribel asked, approaching Aizen with an opened letter in her hands, she held it before him ceremonially, "I have a message here for you. From the opera ghost."

"Good lord you're all obsessed," Aizen muttered, taking the letter and scanning over it.

"He merely welcomes you to his opera house," Harribel informed them, Aizen scoffed at the word 'his', as well as commands that box 5 be left available for his use, and also reminds you that his salary is due."

"His salary?" Urahara asked aghast.

Harribel hummed in confirmation, "Mr. Yamamoto paid him 20,000 peso's a month. But perhaps you can afford to pay more? What with the Kurosaki family as patrons."

Orihime zeroed in on those words like an arrow aiming for bulls-eye, she grabbed onto Rukia's arm, but when she looked down at her friend Rukia's eyes were shining with knowing, apparently the fact that Ichigo was in town wasn't news to the dark-haired girl.

Urahara pouted, "Aww, I'd been hoping to make that announcement."

"Will Mr. Kurosaki be attending the performance tomorrow?" Harribel asked Aizen, ignoring Urahara.

"Isshin Kurosaki is unable to come tomorrow, it will be his son Ichigo in attendance."

"Speaking of tomorrow night..." Urahara popped back into the conversation, "Who is Ms. Ciruuci's understudy?"

"There isn't an understudy," Starkk called out from the orchestra pit, already working unto try to find a comfortable sleeping position in his chair. "Five seasons and she's never needed one. Didn't see the point in training one."

"So you are telling me the first production that will have our names attached to it, is going on tomorrow night and we don't have a leading lady?" Annoyed aggression seeped out of Aizen's tone as he looked down at Starkk.

"Well surely someone else can sing the part, one of the chorus girls maybe?" Urahara suggested.

"Orihime can sing it!" Rukia called out from her place amongst the dancers.

Suddenly the entire opera house was looking at Orihime, and before she could properly process the reason for this, she found herself pushed from her safe place amongst the crowd and into the empty space directly in front of the new managers

Aizen looked her up and down with decidedly less interest than he had earlier, "The ballet girl?"

"She's been taking lessons from a great teacher sir." Rukia responded, her short stature hiding her safely from view behind the other dancers. Traitor.

"Oh? And who is this that's been teaching you Orihime?" Urahara asked, moving closer to Orihime, but the established familiarity between the two made it more comfortable.

Orihime bit down on the inside of her cheek, she couldn't tell him the truth of course, the angel had always been very clear that he remain anonymous. But she couldn't just say nothing after Rukia had vouched for her like this. "I-" Orihime swallowed, "I don't know his name sir."

Aizen made a disparaging sound, rubbing his face with his palm.

"Let her sing for you sir." Harribel insisted in her calm confident voice, "she has been well taught."

Aizen and Harribel locked eyes for a tense minute, before reaching a mutual respect for each others standing.

"From the beginning of the aria then, Ms. Inoue." Aizen waved for her to move to center stage.

There was noise that sounded distinctly like Lilinette smacking Starkk on the back of the head before the aria began playing again. Orihime swallowed, she'd never stood in this place on stage, and it was like she was just noticing for the first time how large the auditorium was. Her voice may have bounced off the walls during her singing lessons but that was in a tiny stone room, this was a massive theater, and the image of her voice being lost in the vastness of this space, making a fool of herself was all Orihime could think about

On instinct, her feet tried carrying her back into the wings, but Harribel brought her cane down hard on the floor, and the resounding bang nailed Orihime's feet to the boards and sent a shock up her spine that had her standing straight.

 _"Think of me,_

 _think of me fondly_

 _when we've said goodbye._

 _Remember me, once in a while-_

 _promise me you'll try."_

"This is doing nothing for my nerves." She heard Aizen say.

"Don't fret Aizen." Urahara whispered.

Orihime squeezed her eyes shut, raising her hands to her diaphragm, she summoned a different image into her mind, she was in a small music room, almost abandoned except for the instruments, and there was only one pair of eyes watching her as she sang, the ones that had been watching her for all these years as they guided her to this point

 _When I am in heaven little sister, I'll send an angel of music to watch over you for me. So don't cry okay?_

The bridge ended, and this time when Orihime opened her mouth this time she felt the difference, and they all saw it.

 _"When you find,_

 _that once again you long,_

 _to take your heart back and be free-_

 _if you ever find a moment_

 _spare a thought_

 _for me."_

The music came to its climax and faded out as bows left strings and fingers left keys and tone holes. Taking a deep breath, Orihime opened her eyes again to find that all eyes were still on her. Nearly everyone was wearing an expression of shock or near amazement.

Orihime didn't say anything, afraid to shatter the spell. But the silence didn't last long.

"Someone get to the costume maker tell him he needs to reconfigure Elissa's wardrobe to this girls measurements." Urahara strode forward towards Orihime, steering her towards the end of the stage.

"I'll tell him!" Nemu volunteered instantly, zipping back upstairs towards Uryuu's studio, a room she was very familiar with.

"We need to start the entire show again from the beginning, any adjustments that need making for Orihime's register we need to know about now," Urahara spoke down to Starkk as he crouched down on the edge of the stage almost like a cat.

"I think I should be fine!" Orihime insisted, coming out of the daze she didn't realize she was in.

The stage was suddenly abuzz with business again, working on reworking the show to its new leading lady.

All the time Aizen just watched. He wasn't the only one.

xxXXxx

Everything after that had felt like it was happening almost in a blur. She spent the entirety of the rest of the day going over the music for the show, again and again, they reworked the choreography for her character was reworked to the bare minimum, Harribel assured her that if she ever forgot where she needed to move to next there would be someone nearby to steer her in the right direction.

Dinner that night was a few mouth fulls of polvorones that she was able to stuff into her mouth while she stood on the platform in Ishida's studio while he adjusted all of the new dresses to her figure.

"I had to make a few new dresses, Ciruuci is shorter than you." Ishida told her around the safety pins he was holding in his mouth. Orihime couldn't help but smirk, knowing Ishida he would have made an entire new line of dresses just because Ciruuci's signature white and purple didn't quite match Orihime's burnt-auburn hair. Or even just because he felt like it.

"Nemu modeled the new ones for me while I was putting them together, you and she are a pretty similar figure so I should only need to make some minor adjustments there. Raise your arms."

Elissa didn't have that many costume changes so Ishida had taken the opportunity to make each costume especially stunning. Orihime's favorite by far was the dress she'd be wearing for the final scenes when she'd sing 'Think Of Me' again. It was a white bodice with silver stitching and miles of angelic blue made up the skirt, Ishida explained how he'd be doing her hair and makeup to go along with it, when he mentioned the blue flowers he'd be getting to clip onto the hair at her temples, Orihime almost ruined the not finished stitching on the dress when she'd lunged at him in a hug.

Yoruichi and Rukia forced Orihime into bed around midnight so that she could get at least the minimum of needed sleep for tomorrow, despite how exhausted the days events had made her Orihime found her mind refused to stay still long enough for her to fall asleep properly. As she lay in a fitful ball while everyone else around her was dead to the world the faintest sound floated in on the air, mixed with all the noise coming from outside the window, sounding like it came from on the inside the opera house, was the very faint music of a piano playing in the distance, the tune could barely be made out beyond what instrument was playing. rubbing at her bleary eyes Orihime rationalized that she must be hearing things. But as she tried to focus on just the music, trying to block out everything else, Orihime found herself drifting into dreams, dreams of the music room she'd imagined earlier, sitting on the piano bench side to side with the unseen genius.

xxXXxx

The lights were beating down on Orihime, almost blinding her and heating up her skin. They almost blacked out the audience completely, but Orihime could make out the Las Noches insignia stamped onto the circle, so she focused her eyes on that fixed spot as her voice mingled with the orchestra, filling the space up with music. the air was swelling with it, like being caught up in a river, but it was the most exhilarated Orihime had ever felt.

 _"We never said_

 _our love_

 _was evergreen_

 _or as unchanging_

 _as the sea-_

 _but if you can still_

 _remember_

 _stop and think of me..."_

Up in the box closest to the stage, Ichigo Kurosaki almost leaned out of his seat as he tried to wrap his mind around what was right in front of him. Was that really Orihime?

He thought back to the last time he'd seen her, that summer two years ago, he hadn't noticed it about her at the time but in introspect she had been growing out of her adolescent awkwardness, but the woman on stage before him now was almost a completely different vision, maybe it was the lights or the dress, or her voice, had she always been able to sing like that?

He knew from Rukia and from the few letters the two of them had exchanged in the months he was at home, that she'd left for Japan last year after her brother's death, but he hadn't known she was back already. When had she gotten back? Early enough to get the lead in an opera clearly.

On stage the music reached its crescendo, demanding Ichigo focus his attention back on the exploits of Hannibal. Settling himself back in his chair, Ichigo set his mind on saying hello to Orihime again once the show was over.

Under the lights, Orihime knew the song was coming to an end, but some purely emotional part of her deep down wanted it to keep going, just this one song, this one moment, this high of stage fright shattering joy.

 _"We never said_

 _our love was ever green,_

 _or as unchanging as the sea-_

 _but please_

 _promise me,_

 _that sometimes_

 _you will think-"_

There was a small break here, and a grin broke out on Orihime's lips as she prepared to trill and vocalize the next word.

 _"Of me!"_

The song came to a finish with a crash of cymbals and the audience jumped to their feet in thunderous applause, the river became a waterfall, completely knocking Orihime out of her footing and sweeping her up in the current. It almost felt like she was only hanging onto her body by an invisible thread as she joined hands with the rest of the cast for the curtain call.

The heavy red curtains fell, cutting the stage off from the rest of the world. Everyone around Orihime buzzed with thrill, the adrenaline of the show still alive and thrumming in their veins. Arms wrapped around Orihime's shoulders in hugs, and hands grasped hers as people came up and congratulated her on a job well done, she returned all the sentiments happily and the corners of her lips almost ached with how much she was smiling. But the minute there was a break in the crowd Orihime made a beeline for the capilla.

Making her way down the stone steps proved to be something of a trial in her white and blue dress, but she managed to make it down to the familiar room without damaging either the dress or herself. Crouching down on the floor in front of the small memorial, the blue material of her skirt surrounding her like a pond, Orihime reached out and brushed the portrait of her brother.

"I wish you could have been there Sora." She whispered into the empty air, how could she only be one staircase away from the hussle and bussle of the opera and still feel so far away. "Thank you, thank you so much..."

Thank you angel of music, for everything you've done for me, all of your lessons and guidence, and thank you Sora for sending him

"I couldn't have done it without you." She murmured, just a breath more loudly.

Echoes of the noise form upstairs was leaking down through the doorway, but Orihime still found enough peace that she could close her eyes and center herself for a moment.

"Bravi," whispered a familiar voice. Orihime perked up immediately, "bravi, bravissima."

"So this is where you've been hiding." Came another familiar voice.

Orihime twisted around to see Rukia skipping down the stone steps, she'd wiped the make up from her face and pulled the accessories from her hair, but she was still in her white dress with the lacey ballet skirt.

Rukia took in the sight of Orihime kneeling before the memorial, and her eyes softened for a heartbeat before her face broke into a huge smile as she came to sit by Orihime.

"You were amazing out there! Actually, you were perfect!" Rukia told her with enough certainty you'd think she was stating a fact rather than just being complimentary.

"Thanks Rukia," Orihime couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of her, "though I think perfect might be a bit much."

"Well, the audience certainly seemed to think so." Rukia placed her hands on her hips, a position Orihime recognised on the shorter girl, "I don't know, but if I were you, I might want to get used to the feeling of being in the spotlight." She said with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

Orihime raised her hands, ready to protest when Rukia continued, "Really, this just makes me wish I knew who this teacher of yours was."

Lowering her hands slightly, Orihime clasped them together loosely, "Sorry Rukia, but just this once, I think this is something I have to keep secret."

The look Rukia was deeply perplexed, and a little worried. But the silence that came into being between the two of them didn't have time to bloom into anything more, as Yoruichi appeared in the doorway, having apparently teleported out of the air like she was prone to do, wearing what seemed to be just a silk dressing robe.

"I don't know what the two of you think your doing down here, but I'm afraid a Prima Donna has a duty to face her adoring public." The dark skinned woman instructed as she jumped from the doorway to where Orihime was, grabbing the red head under her arms and hauling her to her feet.

"And you Miss. Kuchiki have someone waiting for you upstairs." Yoruichi winked over at Rukia.

The dark haired girls eyes widened in suggestion that she knew who Yoruichi was talking about, she squeezed Orihime's hand one last time and gave her a meaning loaded look before heading back up to the surface.

Part of Orihime wanted Yoruichi to leave as well, she wanted to ask the angel if he had enjoyed the opera, if he thought she'd done well. But Yoruichi must have noticed the hesitation because she began tickling Orihime along the ribs.

Orihime let out shrieks of giggles, "Okay, okay, I'm coming I promise!"

xxXXxx

Squeezing her way through the crowded hallways, Rukia was able to spot Ichigo thanks to the wide birth people were giving him. the way he looked in such finery was still something Rukia was getting used to, despite having seen him dressed that way at the high society events Rukia attended with her brother, and even having visited the Kurosaki's new household in the city, the sight of someone she knew to be so casual and even fool-hardy was a bit surprising to her even after all this time.

When Ichigo spotted her, he made his way to where she had managed to make it out of the crowd and into the little bubble of space that had formed around him, Ichigo wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground slightly so that he could press a chaste kiss to her lips.

"Long time no see, eh Ichigo?" Rukia said against his lips.

"I know it's necessary and all, but these last weeks without you have been terrible." he whispered with a smile, setting her back on the ground.

"Oh, poor you." Rukia replied sarcastically, wrapping her own arms around Ichigo's middle.

A smile shared between the two of them.

"Now am I losing my mind," Ichigo asked, returning them to reality, "or was that Orihime out on stage tonight."

"I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, you did one hell of a job, since when is she back? I thought she was going to be in Japan till the end of the month?"

Rukia snickered at the look on Ichigo's face, "Well she got back earlier than expected clearly. Admittedly her getting the starring role was a bit of a surprise to all of us as well, but hey, if it let's me see that look on your face I call it a win."

Ichigo schooled his expression into a scowl, glaring down at the smug grin Rukia was sporting. "And just what do you mean it was a surprise to you all?"

Rukia rolled her eyes and grabbed onto his hand, "You can ask her yourself, come on, I know she'll be dying to see you."

Ichigo stood still as a tree though, yanking Rukia backwards as she tried to walk away, "Actually, why don't I invite her to dinner with us tonight? She can tell me the story then, I'll even see if I can pull Ishida away from his work, we'll make it a reunion."

Rukia's expression flickered for a moment, it had been a while since they'd seen each other and he knew she wanted to spend some alone time just as much as he did, but thinking back to the order he'd placed in the jewelers a few days ago, Ichigo was okay with inviting a few more people tonight, there was only one night coming up he would need it to just be him and Rukia.

"Sure, that sounds great." Rukia agreed after a moment, still not overly thrilled but she wouldn't say no to taking a friend out for dinner.

Ichigo grinned, "I'll go see the two of them, you go get changed."

xxXXxx

After mingling with everyone backstage for a bit, and politely shaking hands with every 'important' person Aizen and Urahara wanted her to meet, Orihime was eventually saved by Harribel who shepherded her back to Ciruuci's old dressing room. Orihime had expected it to still be full of the Prima Donna's things. And it very well may have been, but the entire room was so carpeted in flowers arrangements that you could hardly see anything else.

Orihime was certain she'd seen flower shops with less carnations, all the bright colours and mingling scents only added to her elated mood as she maneuvered her way through them and to the dressing table. She'd lost count somewhere along the way, but several glasses of champagne had been pressed into her hand in the space of an hour, and she was starting to feel the effects of it in her head.

Also, now that she was finally sitting down again, all the tiredness she'd been putting off feeling started to seep into her muscles, laying her head down onto the surface of the dressing table, Orihime let out a deep sigh, raising her eyes again to look at herself in the mirror, she found her vision was dancing slightly.

There were towers of bouquets on either side of the vanity mirror, but only one floor on the table itself, sitting inside an empty perfume bottle was a single red rose, a black ribbon tied into a bow around its thorny stem. Reaching up she rubbed one of its red petals between her thumb and index finger. She noticed that there was something tied to the ribbon, it was a small label, like she'd seen attached to parcels or gift wrapped presents, it had three words written on it in pitch black ink.

 **Wait for me.**

"You did very well tonight." Came Harribel's voice. Orihime looked into the mirror to see Harribel standing behind her chair. "He will be pleased."

Their eyes met in the mirror, like everything else about the angel, his name went unsaid, but there was an unspoken understanding between the two of them in that moment

There was a knock at the door, drawing both of their attention to the front of the room. Harribel gave them permission to enter, and the door opened to reveal a familiar head of ginger hair.

"Ichigo!" Orhime chirped, straightening in her seat but not raising from her chair since she didn't trust her sense of balance.

"So it is you." Ichigo joked, as he came forward to wrap her in a friendly hug. When they broke apart Harribel nodded her head politely before leaving the room.

"I have a lot of questions for you, but right now I really just want to ask where you learned to sing like that?" Ichigo asked her with a familiar tilt to his head.

Maybe it was the endorphins still humming through her system, or the champagne bubbling in her stomach or the nostalgia that clouded her mind at the sight of Ichigo's face, but she found herself saying, "I've been visited by an angel of music."

He must have noticed the flush to her face, or the smell of champagne on her breath because Ichigo didn't question her on that answer, he simply patted her hand and nodded, a bit of a quirk to his lip.

"No doubt about that. And now let's get some dinner." He stood to quickly for Orihime's eyes to follow him, "Rukia and I are going to dinner tonight, so why don't you come with us, I'll even drag Ishida along too."

"No, I can't... I-"

"Managers keeping you on a tight leash huh?" Ichigo asked nonchalantly, "Don't worry, we won't keep you out to long. Just change into something comfortable and I'll come get you in a ten minutes."

Orihime tried to protest again, but her tongue was fumbling in her mouth and he was out the door before she could even say his name.

On the other side of the door and back in the hallway, Ichigo looked around the hallway trying to remember which way Ishida's studio was when suddenly he was struck by the sensation of being squeezed by a boa constrictor while simultaneously being knocked off his feet.

"IC~HI~GO!" A happy female voice sang into his ear as arms squeezed him even tighter, Ichigo stuck an arm out at the last second, steadying himself against the wall as the familiar feeling of Nel hugging him. No matter how many times she tackle-hugged him like this he was never not surprised that she had yet to break one of his bones.

"Hi Nel." He choked out.

"You're here! You're the patron now! Does that mean you're going to be around more?" Nel asked in rapid fire. Still as much of a spitfire as ever.

"Yes, yes, and I'll definitely try to stop by more often." Ichigo answered as quickly as he could, as he did his best to loosen Nel's concrete grip around his neck.

"Yay!" Nel cheered, pressing a sloppy kiss against his cheek. She mercifully released him from her hug, instead choosing to grab him by the arms and dragging him towards the stairs. "Come out with us tonight! We're going for drinks to celebrate opening night!"

Ichigo slid his arm out of her grasp, and leaned against the banister, trying to catch his breath. "Sorry Nel, but I've already got plans for to-"

"Kurosaki!" That howl was the only warning Ichigo had before Grimmjow barreled into him, knocking the two of them down the staircase. Ichigo let out an angry yelp when he hit the ground again, this was also a familiar scenario between him and Grimmjow, only unlike with Nel, Ichigo found himself losing his rationality around Grimmjow.

At the top of the stairs Nel looked down at the two of them brawling, she leaned her arms against railings and sighed. Grimmjow could at least share with her.

xxXXxx

Back in her dressing room, Orihime had changed out of her blue and white dress, there was a white nightgown and matching robe hanging up in the dressing room wardrobe. Orihime left her dress where she'd stepped out of it, the fogginess in her mind had only gotten thicker so she didn't think to try and hang it up, she went over to the sink behind another mountain of flowers, running it under some water she returned to her dressing table, she rubbed the cloth over her face to clear it of make up and then pulled the blue flowers from her hair. The sun had long ago set, and only bare minimum of light filtered through the windows, Orihime could barely see her reflection in the vanity. There were gas lamps on the walls, but Orihime couldn't be bothered trying to light them.

How long had it been since Ichigo left? When he came back for her should she try to explain that she couldn't leave again? Or would that be rude?

A breeze of cold air gushed through the room, had she opened a window? The thin fabric of her robe and nightgown offered her no protection to the temperature, and Orihime wrapped her arms around herself, suppressing a shiver. At the very least she should change into some proper clothes.

Raising from her seat, she moved towards the door, only to stop dead in her tracks. The hairs on the back of her neck and her arms stood on end, and the temperature dropped even further.

"What a brave young suitor." The angels voice materialised in the air, but it sounded different from every other time, he spat out the the words, he sounded angry, "Trying to share in my triumph."

"Angel?" Orihime couldn't help the shake in her voice. There was no response and the atmosphere in the room just dropped even further. "Speak to me angel, and I'll listen."

"You would not prefer an evening with that slave of fashion and his trash?"

Orihime wrapped her arms tighter around herself, trying to think why the angel would sound so mad. Then she remembered, in a moment of thoughtlessness she had told Ichigo about her divine visitations, had that been a breach of her contract with the angel? Would he leave her now?

"Angel, my soul was weak forgive me. Stay by my side, guide me." Her vision began to blur as tears welled up in her eyes, her heart has permanently broken from Sora's death, if the angel left her, Orihime was sure the remains of her heart would shatter into pieces.

The horrible silence filled the room again for a minute, and Orihime feared that this was it, the angel had dissapeared from her life as swiftly as he'd entered it

"Very well." The sound of the angel still speaking to her was almost enough to lure a sob from Orihime's throat. And whatever anger had been dripping from his tone seemed to be forgotten, his voice was just as calm and magnetizing "If you insist, then tonight you shall know me."

Orihime's heart stopped. Had she heard him right? After all these years her angel was going to show himself? She would finally see him?

Orihime took a nervous step forward, would he descend from the sky like in stories? or perhaps materialise out of thin air in front of her?

"Look at your face in the mirror." The angel instructed, for a second Orihime thought he meant the vanity, but then what she thought was a glint of light pass over the full length body mirror on the far wall. She stood directly in front of it, almost pressing her nose to it's surface, she saw her own reflection of course, but as her eyes twitch all over the glassy surface she noticed the shape of a silhouette, the figure of a man, he seemed to be hovering right over her shoulder. Orihime spun around (which did wonders for her head), but saw no one there, she heard a sound she thought was familiar to a sliding door, slowly this time she turned back to the mirror, but this time she didn't see her reflection.

There was a man standing in front of her, he was tall with a slim build, his ink black hair was bombed carefully out of his face and from what she could see of his face his skin was deathly pale. She said 'from what she could see' because half of his face was covered by an ivory white mask, his expression was guarded and unreadable, but those eyes, one impossibly green and the other so dark you'd think it was black with a yellowish iris, were scanning Orihime's face watching for her reaction.

He was dressed dressed oddly enough like one of the gentlemen her managers had introduced her to this evening, a black tie hugged his neck, dissapearing into his dark green dinner jacket.

The angel never said a word, he simply raised his hand for her to take. Orihime looked down at the offered hand, at the long almost white fingers and painted black nails. But the angel's eyes never left her face.

Dazedly, almost as if in a trance, Orihime reached out and curled her fingers around his.


	3. Music of the Night

**I do not own Bleach or Phantom of the Opera.**

 **Hello again everyone!**

 **Before we begin this chapter I'd like to thank LeeHimeChan and ulquihime7980 for favouriting.**

 **As well as 3vuep, Anemone Iris Sidera, LeeHimeChan, QueenChristine17, Random45Person, thereciev3r, and ulquihime7980 for following.**

 **Special thanks to 3vuep and Savi for their reviews on the last chapter.**

 **And of course a shout out to my wonderful Beta reader Shi-Daisy.**

* * *

Dreamlike. That was the only word Orihime could think to use to describe what was happening right now. The only source of light was from the flickering candles mounted on the walls. she thought absentmindedly that they were in a tunnel, they had been walking along this single path, with only darkness ahead and behind them. I was almost like a scene from _Dante's Inferno,_ walking barefoot down the cold stony path as the figure in front of her lead them down a twisting path further and further below ground.

But Orihime couldn't focus on any of that right now, because almost all of her senses were focused on the hand holding hers, and the body attached to it. He held her hand tightly, not so much that it hurt but just enough that her hand wouldn't fall out of his grasp if she started to lag behind. She fixed her grey eyes on the back of his dark head, his hair was long for a mans, not as long as Nnoitra's but just enough that the ends brushed over the collar of his jacket. He had only looked back at her a couple of times since they'd left her dressing room, he mainly kept his face forward, looking to the way ahead with the help of the candelabra in front of him, it cast a glow into the air in front of him, but Orihime had a feeling that that was just for show.

The path ended and they were at the top of a spiraling staircase, he took the first few steps down before stopping to look back up at her, she lowered her feet down carefully feeling the edges of the stairs out with her toes, it would have been easier to just watch her steps, but in the moment he'd looked back to watch her their eyes had met. Sea green and yellow had locked onto sterling silver and the air choked with the unspoken words between them, Orihime felt every question that had been circling her head claw it's way along her tongue and force themselves against the barrier of her closed lips, and the way the angels pale skin seemed to glow in the darkness let her see him almost as clearly as if they were in the sun, the way his eyes were trained on her face, swallowing up her attention, the way she was pinning him with her gaze. They kept their eyes on each other the whole time they descended the stairs, twisting around and around in the dark. Once the steps ended though he looked away from her again.

Her angel. The angel of music. The phantom of the opera. Three names one person.

Orihime remembered nights when Nnoitra would 'entertain' everyone in the dinner hall with stories of the phantom, how he was a demon made flesh, a creature of darkness, he was born from discarded sheet music and jumped out of the archives at night, or that he was a thin as a sheet and lived in the walls. Soi Fon had scoffed and said the phantom was nothing more than a dream, that he lived nowhere but in the minds of the gullible. It would seem Soi Fon was right, all these years the phantom had lived and thrived inside Orihime's mind.

The ground beneath her feet began to slope downward and the sound of splashing water reached Orihime's ears. A few minutes later the path beneath her feet ended at a greenish body of water, a rotten looking wooden piling stood out of the water and tied to it by a rope was a small gondola boat, there were an array of pillows in the passenger cabin of the front and at the head of the boat was a glowing lamp head.

It was getting harder and harder to convince herself that this wasn't a dream. Actually... could that be it? Back in the dressing room, right before Ichigo had entered, she had been so tired and more than a little tipsy from the champagne, when she'd set her head down on the dressing table and closed her eyes for a brief moment, had she fallen asleep? It would certainly make sense that this is the dream her mind would conjure, coming face to face with her long unseen angel and teacher, and not only had he whisked her away but he had taken the form of a strange and handsome face in a broken mask. The idea of this all just being a dream was welcome in her foggy mind, accepting it to be the case made Orihime feel lighter, if this was a dream then what need did she have to question anything? This was all a concoction of her mind, it all came from her, and what reason would she have to fear herself?

Really this wasn't even the strangest dream she'd ever had, there was that one where she'd dreamt she was an automaton.

While she was thinking all this the phantom had let go of her hand and was working on pulling the boat 'into harbour' as it were, untying it from the piling and placing one foot firmly on the stern, when he was done he turned back to her and reached a hand out, Orihime stepped forward, but instead of taking her hand he pulled her in closer to him by the hips. Orihime started at the sudden contact and when she looked up into the phantom's eyes she found him watching her all the more intently for that reaction.

"Are you afraid woman?" He asked her.

His voice was an exact recreation from her memories, Orihime had never realised how vivid her dreams could be.

"No." She told him resolutely, "I'm not afraid."

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly at that reply, but he recovered from it quickly, his hands became firmer around her hips as he lifted her off the ground, a squeak of surprise left Orihime's mouth as her feet left the ground for only a second before she found herself being placed in the passengers cabin of the gondola. The phantom stepped fully onto the stern, pulling an oar off of the ground he pushed the boat out into the middle of the water.

Orihime sank down into the cushions, she watched the phantom row them down the water for a bit, paying attention to the workings of his arms and shoulders, as they slid away from the reach of the candle light the last of its aura glinted of the white of the phantoms mask. Orihime lay back against the cushioned seating, and turned her gaze towards the stone statues carved into the walls, the ones that captured her attention the most were the stone pillars, carved into the figure of muscular bearded men, crouched over and holding the ceiling up, like something out of Greek myth.

Orihime hummed at the thought, perhaps she was less Dante and more Persephone, riding the Styx down to the Underworld.

Rolling onto her stomach Orihime hung one arm over the side of the boat, she skimmed her fingers along the surface of the water, the bitter cold was a shock to her skin, but instead of flinching back she slid her hand in further, feeling the sensation of the cold running through her fingers.

xxXXxx

Nel rapped her fist against the dressing room door, "Orihime?"

Downstairs Ichigo and Grimmjow were sitting in opposite facing chairs, Rukia admonishing Ichigo for the black eye that was colouring the right side of his face and Grimmjow was scowling into the ice pack he pressed against his now split lip. Really, did they have to do this every time they saw each other?

Ichigo had asked Nel to check on Orihime and see if she was ready to come down. There was no answer from inside the room so Nel knocked again, still no answer. The door was unlocked so Nel let herself in, the room was dark now, the outline of all the flowers making it look like some kind of twisted nursery rhyme forest. What it was noticeably lacking however was a redheaded opera singer. Nel began thinking that she should go look for Orihime in the ballet dormitories when she heard a strange sound, like wind whistleing through a tunnel. Nel honed her ears in on the strange sound and found that it was coming from the back of the room, there was a full length pier glass mirror pressed against the back wall, the moonlight streaming in through the windows reflected strangely off its surface, approaching the mirror Nel saw that it was because the mirror was partly out of the frame.

Reaching her hand out to feel the edge of the mirror it rolled away like some kind of sliding door. There was a tunnel inside. Eyes widening in shock Nel took a tentative step over the threshold. The entire tunnel was dimly lit by sputtering candles, some having been lit for so long most of their wax was a puddle on the floor, there was dampness to the atmosphere down there, only added to by the distant dripping noise that was coming from... somewhere. There was a flicker of motion out of the corner of Nel's eye and she looked down just in time to see a pair of rats scurry past her feet.

Nel let out an indignant shriek that bounced off the walls and seemed to echo for miles into the darkness.

Taking a few stuttering breaths Nel took a moment to calm the rate of her heart, looking further down the tunnel it was impossible to tell for how long it went on, if she started walking now, how long would she be in the darkness?

A hand grabbed Nel by her wrist and the teal haired girl screamed again as she whirled around to face her surprise approacher. Nel came face to face with the stone cold expressioned Harribel.

"Come." She said simply with a tug on Nel's wrist, "This place is not for us."

Back outside the dressing room Harribel locked the door, pocketing the key for good measure. Nel opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by the arrival of Ishida.

"Ah! There you are." He exclaimed, jogging down the hall towards them. He nodded in greeting to Harribel before fixing his gaze on Nel, "So the managers have finally managed to get some of his friends to drag Grimmjow back to his appartment. And Ichigo's carriage is outside so I'm here to get Orihime." The dark haired young man reached out for the door knob only to have his hand stopped by Harribel.

"I'm afraid Orihime is asleep." The dance mistress told him.

"Asleep?"

"She was exhausted after the show you'll understand, her promotion was so last minute that she's barely gotten any rest the past two days. So you'll understand that letting her sleep now is important." Harribel explained in her tone that left no room for argument.

Ishida pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and hummed. "Yes, I suppose that makes sense. Well if Orihime wakes up tell her I stopped by, I'll come see her tomorrow."

After that he went back downstairs, Nel turned to face Harribel again but the other woman was already walking away.

xxXXxx

There was a light in the distance. Orihime focused her eyes on it and saw that there was a yawning mouth of a cave ahead of them. The Gondola passed through eroded archway and Orihime jumped up onto her knees as her eyes took in one of the most astonishing sights she'd ever seen. The cave was lavishly decorated, royal red drapes were positioned along the walls and the curve that lead to the ceiling to disguise the bare stone and make it look more like a room with walls, there were candelabras and candle stands placed everywhere for illumination. There were two things in particular that caught Orihime's attention, one was how the entire space seemed to be made out of alcoves and smaller caverns, the contents of some were visible from where Orihime was, one in particular caught her eye as it seemed to be filled with clothes, the second was the thing that seemed to be the center piece of the entire space; a huge ornate organ, it sat on the very edge of the cave floor so that the player would have his back against the water as he played. Absentmindedly Orihime wondered what the acoustics must be like down here, if she just started singing right now what would it sound like?

Before she could test that question for herself though, the gondola rocked slightly as it bumped against the shallow ramp that extended out of the water and lead fully into the underground living space.

The phantom stepped off the boat first, tying it securely into place before holding his hand out to Orihime, she reached up to take his hand again, this time when she clasped onto him he reached out with both arms to pull her onto land.

When he pulled her close to him for a brief second before he stepped back she saw a flicker of something in his eyes, it might have gone completely unnoticed if it wasn't the reflection of an emotion she was all to familiar with, _anticipation._ Being on so close to getting something that you'd wanted, waited for.

He let go of her hands, striding into the familiar space of the cave, in one grandiose motion he swung his jacket off his frame like a matadors cape, hanging it on the frame of one of the half covered mirrors leaning against the wall. He pulled on a lever mechanism and the cave filled with the sound of turning gears, looking over her shoulder Orihime saw a flood gate drop down across the caves mouth, turning the little pocket of earth into an enclosed space.

"Where are we?" Orihime dared to ask as the phantom turned back to face her, now standing in the middle of the floor space.

"If I am an angel then perhaps this is the kingdom, and what I have brought you to is sweet music's throne." There was nothing mocking in the way he spoke, as if he were inviting her to keep believing things were as they had been.

But this was Orihime's dream, and that didn't sound right to her. She followed him into the main living area, the stone floor was worn smooth beneath her bare feet, looking around more closely Orihime noticed little things, just how worn with use everything seemed to be, the sheer amount of melted wax that clung to the candelabra's, also the placements of all the smaller items; writing equipment, the utensils on the dining table in one of the alcove's, copious amounts of sheet music around the organ, there was no seeming order to any of it yet she got the distinct impression that everything was set up just the way the owner liked it.

Orihime came face to face with the phantom and smiled at him, "This is your home isn't it."

He held her gaze for a heartbeat before turning away from her with a _hmph,_ walking up the steps to the organ, "This is where I live yes."

"And why did you bring me here? I mean I already know the answer really, but I'd like to hear you say it." Orihime babbled happily, of course she would dream not only about her angel but about him bringing her to his secret-hideout-underground-home.

His eyes widened in surprise as he watched her follow him up the steps, composing his expression again he slid those green irises down to the ivory keys, taking a seat at the bench.

"When I saw you preform tonight I realised I had nothing left to teach you. That we could no longer continue on the way things were." His fingers began moving across the keys, not pressing down on them hard enough to strike a cord, but as if the music was coming to life within his skin.

Orihime panicked for a brief moment at those words, before her mind caught up with their meaning, "The way things were?"

"Talking to you from behind walls and mirrors. The fact is that since the moment I first heard you sing I knew that I needed you with me, needed your voice, for my music."

Orihime was standing right beside him now, her hand resting on the curve of its side. "You say you have nothing left to teach me... but that you need my voice."

Even knowing that this was all a dream did nothing to stop the squeezing feeling in her heart or the swaying feeling in her head. The phantom wordlessly slid further along the bench in invitation, Orihime all to willingly took the place at his side. Despite the bench only being meant for one person, their sides barely touched as they sat next to each other, even tough there were two layers of linen wrapped around Orihime and the stiff white fabric of the phantoms shirt between their skin, Orihime felt the sections of skin on her arm that were a hairs breadth from his simmer.

The phantom pressed his fingers down on the organ keys, filling the air of the cave with a the sharp notes. orihime felt a shiver run up her spine at the way the sudden sound changed the atmosphere. Charging it with some sort of indescribable energy.

"For so many years, I've heard people speak of the ways to create great, 'true' music. They wax poetic about reaching deep inside themselves and pouring their hearts out onto paper. Always the same sentiment, spoken by different people, with different words. People always speak of such things so casually, as if a heart is something you can hold in the palm of your hand. I never understood them and that..."

There was a flex in his hands, the veins running up to his knuckles.

"I decided that they spoke nonsense, dismissed their words as sentimental diatribe. But when I heard you singing, when I taught you, I wanted to write music that only your voice could do justice to."

Orihime's heart was beating like a hummingbird's wings, in normal circumstances she would have blushed and waved her arms, tried telling him that he was giving her too much credit. I fact she was about to do just that when green eyes cut across to her, the only part of his statue still body that moved while he played.

"Don't." He said simply.

Orihime blanched at his expression, "Pardon?"

"You were about to enter into it again, that special little hell you've made for yourself." He watched the confused expression bloom on her face. "You desire more than anything else to be the kind of person the others find reliable, you wish to support your friends the way you feel they have supported you. But when the opportunity for such arises you undercut yourself. You allow even the smallest insecurities to swarm your mind, and you convince yourself that you are not strong enough."

Orihime gaped, at loss for words to rebutle him with. But she knew he wasn't wrong. So instead she asked, "You really think that there's nothing more I need to be taught?"

The phantom stilled his fingers, reaching one hand over to were hers were folded in her lap. "Perhaps, one last lesson."

He picked them up carefully, guiding her right hand to sit on top of his hand, arranging her fingers to lie perfectly on top of his, the phantom then placed his other hand back on the ivories and Orihime placed her hand on top.

He began to play again, a new song this time, it was slow and melodic, with a sense of building. Their fingers moved in tandem, Orihime's palms resting on the back of his hands. Felling the movement of each tendon and muscle.

She felt a hot breath fan along her cheek as the phantom leaned hi mouth in close to her ear. "Pay careful attention." He whispered.

How he expected her to do that when he was leaning in so closely she wasn't sure, but Orihime was nothing if not a diligent student. So she did her best to block out everything but her sense of sound, soaking up the music like a sponge. After a minute she felt she had enough of a handle on the tune that she could predict which notes would be struck one after the other. Which was a good thing too, because the phantom lifted his hands form the organ and slowly rose from the bench. Her hands were still stuck to his, so Orihime rose with him.

"Hold the song in your head." He instructed her, his voice sounding a bit breathy.

She followed him as he guided her away from the bench, away from the organ and out into a more open space. The whole time the organ music played over and over like a music box. He released one of her hands and spun her around, almost like they were dancing, before pulling her back against his chest and settling his (and her) left hand on her hip. Orihime bit down on a squeak.

"Close your eyes." He whispered to her again.

Sucking in a breath she did as he asked, cutting off her sense of sight and leaving her with only the feeling of his close proximity and music playing in her mind.

"You can't fight the darkness, so let it embrace you," He whispered like they were sitting together in a concert hall, as if he could hear the music that was becoming more deafening in her mind. "Let go of all the thoughts about your life before, and surrender to it. Hear it feel it, open up your mind and let the music of the night wrap around you."

 _The music of the night._

Those words hummed through her body before burrowing themselves into her chest.

"Let go of the thoughts in your mind, listen to your body, focus on what you _feel."_ His hand slid slowly from her hip around to her stomach, long lithe fingers spreading out and catching on the thin fabric of her nightgown. He nuzzled the side of his face into her hair, she felt his cheek resting against her skull, his lips just behind the shell of her ear, "Trust me."

She lifted her right arm from where it had been hovering at her side, lifting it up, her fingers feeling searchingly through her hair until they reached the sharp edge of a jaw bone, she slipped her hand up further until she could feel the his cheek resting in the cradle of her palm, the tips of her fingers just settling on the edge of his mask.

"I do." She breathed out.

She felt his whole body go stiff at her touch, like her words had turned his spine to metal. And had her mind been a little clearer that night she might have payed more attention to that, or reacted to it in some way, but as it was she felt like she was on her way to having an out of body experience. She weaved her fingers in between the ones stretched out on her stomach, and reacher her other hand further up his face until she could feel some of his soft black hair. If it was at all possibly he froze up even more, she almost wanted to laugh, instead she swayed back and forth slightly on her feet, and a gentle hum slipped out of her lips, humming along to the organ music only she was still hearing.

At the sound of her voice the phantom seemed to snap out of his stupor, for she felt him melt around her, his free hand coming to rest on the elbow of her right arm and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Sing for me." His voice was lower than before, almost struggling, "My angel of music."

Her eyelids fluttered open for a second at that name. She was the angle of music? But then who was he?

She'd have to... ask... or tell him about this... when she woke...

The two of them swayed back and forth to nothing more than the sound of Orihime's humming, he waited for her to open her lips and fully start singing, but instead the sound of her humming began to taper off, and her arms started to go limp around him. Brushing the hair away from the side of her face. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was evening out into light snores.

Moving the arm around her stomach to her back, he leaned down to loop his other arm under the bend of her knees. Picking her up into a bridal carry her head lolled against his chest. He took a moment just to look down at her in his arms, curling up against him in her sleep. All the years of watching from the shadows, listening to her practice her scales, and the vocals of the leading role of whatever opera she was dancing in when she thought no one was around. And now here she was, in his arms, the feeling of her hands was still alive on his skin.

He carried her into his sleeping area, setting her down on the bed, she curled up on her side immediately, clutching a pillow to her like a teddy bear.

He thought back to the music he'd played her, that he'd heard her sing. He had cut it from his masterpiece a month ago, it was one of the first songs he'd written but as the story of the opera changed and evolved it had lost its place. Maybe Don Juan wouldn't sing it Dona Ana, but it was the perfect song to sing to Orihime.

Being her teacher had allowed him to speak to her, to build a connection. And in time she would understand. Brushing the hair out of her face before he stood to leave. Drawing the curtains closed he left her to dream of music.


	4. Intermission

Before we continue with the tale of the ingenue and the composer, we must first cut away to the other players in this production. We must look in on their stories to better flesh out the events of this one.

xxXXxx

Ichigo and Rukia stumbled in through the front door of his family's town house. Aside from the moving men they hadn't had time to hire any staff yet, Isshin had taken Karin and Yuzu to the gala dinner the police department were having tonight, so the two young lovers were alone in the house.

They'd managed to drain a bottle of champagne at dinner, so it would be a while before either of them came down from the high of a good night out. Ichigo spun Rukia under his arm and then proceeded to swing the two of them around the entry hall like they were ball room dancing. Rukia giggled uncontrollably as her feet clumsily kept up with Ichigo's tomfoolery.

"Fool, what are you doing?" She hiccuped.

Ichigo twirled her in close to him, and then dipped her backwards because they were doing the tango now apparently, "You're drunk enough that you can just about put one foot in front of the other, this is my one chance to be a better dancer than you, give me a break." The red head tried for his usual scowl but his speech was so slurred that he could hardly get away with calling Rukia drunk. "Well, maybe not 'better' but I'd say we're at least on equal footing."

Rukia burst out into raucous laughter, going limp in his arms and dragging them both down onto the floor. In his drunken state Ichigo found this inexplicably hilarious and the two lay there on the cool marble floor, laughing their lungs out. The hands that had been joined together since they left the restaurant lay in between their bodies, one still gripping onto the other just as tightly as you would hold onto something precious. Once they both calmed down enough that they could breath in a relatively smooth manner, Ichigo pulled their joined hand up closer to his face so that he could inspect the way their fingers interlocked. Maybe it was the angel but even though one hand was small and smooth with short fingers, and the other was larger, rough skinned from years of fencing practice and with long broad digits, he couldn't quite tell where the two hands met and ended.

"I'm so tired." Rukia giggled, her voice much quieter now.

Ichigo raised his eyes to look at Rukia lying on the floor next to him, she looked tired, her petite frame was stretching out on the floor trying to find a comfortable enough position to sleep in, like a cat.

Crawling onto his knees Ichigo pulled Rukia off her back and hiked her up until her stomach was resting on the line of his shoulder.

"Ichigo what are you doing?" Rukia protested, as much as she could when she was still clinging onto the back of his jacket as he carried her up the stairs.

"We can't fall asleep on the floor Rukia, or more like I can't let you fall asleep on the floor, my family would kill me."

A few more fumbling steps and a near fall down the stairs later, Rukia and Ichigo collapsed onto his bed. They didn't bother pulling the blankets out from where they were tucked in, but they'd spent many happy nights like that, Ichigo sinking his frame into the mattress and Rukia pillowing her head on his chest, their hands still intertwined. Rukia was the first to fall asleep but Ichigo was not far behind, and as his mind faded to sleep he absently wondered how different their hands would feel with rings on their fingers.

xxXXxx

Urahara and Aizen clinked their sherry glasses as they sat in front of the fire place in their office. While the rest of the company would spent this night and a good portion of the next morning celebrating and relaxing. For them however they would only be allowed this one celebratory glass before they returned to work.

"Well, you have to admit Sosuke, that went much better than you expected." Urahara chuckled.

Aizen simply sipped on his drink before making his reply, "I remain under the firm belief that nothing yet exists that can surpass my expectations. But I concede that Miss Inoue did a commendable job, especially given her lack of experience."

Urahara pulled his fan from his waistcoat and fanned at his face while he laughed some more at his partners mannerisms, for as long as he'd known Aizen the man had always kept up this facade that he didn't really feel anything, it was borderline adorable.

"We haven't gone over the books yet but if the audience was anything to go by tonight was a smash. And so it's time to turn our eyes to the future," Urahara punctuated his sentence with the movements of his fan, "what shall our next opera be?"

It may still technically be opening night but in this business you had to think a hundred steps ahead if you wanted to stay on top.

"We have another matter that requires our attention first." Aizen replied, setting his glass down on his side table.

"Oh?"

"We need to find a way to swoon Cirruci Sanderwicci back into the our company."

Urahara scrunched his eyebrows together, "We do? It seems to me that miss Inoue has taken to the role of leading lady quite well, and miss Sanderwicci made it clear under no uncertain terms that she had no intention of returning until we cleared up our little 'ghost problem'."

Aizen scoffed unkindly at the reference to the phantom, to think so many people could buy into such nonsense. But another part of his mind thought that there might be something about the whole affair that might warrant some consideration.

"Miss Inoue was pleasing tonight, I won't deny that, however new talent like her can just as easily be a flash in the pan as a rising star, and for the run of our first opera at least, we needed to secure a reputation amongst the theater goers, and the best way to do that is to use the established popularity of a familiar face. And Cirruci has been a leading lady for five seasons, she's sure to have her own fan base that she can bring in."

Urahara hummed in consideration, he ran over each person and aspect of the opera house that this decision would effect. As always Aizen made a good point, but his partner had a tendency to forget that these were actual people he was talking about. But in this case...

"You might have something there Aizen." Urahara admitted, he took a swig from his sherry glass and held it out to his partner in buisness. "I'll write miss Sanderwicci a letter in the morning, we'll get the gears turning."

Aizen picked his glass up from his side table and toasted Urahara to their agreement.

xxXXxx

In a cavern deep beneath the ground, a figure unknown to the aforementioned players, was busying himself writing letters.


	5. A Flurry of Letters

**I do not own Bleach or Phantom of the Opera.**

 **Hello again everyone!**

 **Before we begin this chapter I'd like to thank LeeHimeChan, 1Piecegirl, Lucifer's Remnants, TanukiBloodWolf, otakumeera, and ulquihime7980 for favouriting.**

 **As well as 3vuep, Anemone Iris Sidera, LeeHimeChan, QueenChristine17, Random45Person, thereciev3r, RageGoat, eve9613, 1Piecegirl, Edeansnow, TheAvatarRoku, lady madland, otakumeera, and ulquihime7980 for following.**

 **Special thanks to Sugalee And Savi for their reviews on the last chapter.**

 **And of course a shout out to my wonderful Beta reader Shi-Daisy.**

* * *

Orihime returned to the land of the waking slowly and groggily. The first thing she became aware of was the dull headache that had made a nest for itself inside her skull, the second was the incredible softness of the surface she was lying on. Burying her face further into the warmth, Orihime entertained the idea of just drifting back into sleep.

 _So soft here..._

She thought to herself.

 _So soft and comfortable..._

Orihime's eyes snapped open. Those were two words that could _not_ be used to describe her bunk in the ballet dorm. Bolting upright into a sitting position- big mistake, big big mistake. Bringing her hands up to hold onto the sides of her head in an attempt to make the room stop spinning, Orihime took a deep breath and did her best to clear the fog from her mind.

Looking around her she saw that she was lying on a large circular bed in a grotto like space, it was blessedly dark except for some filtered light which was making its way into the sleeping space through a translucent material that was draped over the entry way.

 _Where am I? How did I get here?_

Biting down on her lip Orihime swung her legs over the side of the bed and tried to think back to the night before, what did she remember?

Scenes from her dream flashed before her minds eye, the mirror, the lake, the phantom of the opera...

But here she was underground, and there were dried water marks along the sleeves of her nightgown from where she'd run her hands through the water. Last night was not a dream, she had come face to face with the phantom of the opera , she'd taken his hand and-

 _His hands._

It took a herculean amount of self control not to screech like a banshee, slapping her hands to the side of her face she felt her cheeks heating up like the inside of a blacksmiths furnace. She might have very well stayed like that, curled up on her self as the ghost of his touch tingled across the skin under her dress, until the sound of organ music drifted in through the archway.

Pulling her thoughts out of her inner crisis over propriety, like a siren song, Orihime rose up from the bed and moved over to the veiled archway that connected the sleeping chamber from the rest of the underground lair.

Orihime's hand hesitated for a moment, hovering in the air just an inch away from the curtain she'd been about to pull back. For some unexplainable reason she felt as though she were standing on the edge or a precipice, taking another step forward would mean falling. But what else was there to do? She could take inaction, curl back up on the bed, close her eyes and try to pretend that this was a dream after all, but what kind of woman would that make her if she did that?

Perhaps it would be more accurate to say she was standing on a knife's edge, she could choose to fall or stay where she was if she had careful balance. But staying would only result in cut feet, what other choice was there but to fall?

Bunching the thin material in her hand, Orihime pulled the curtain away and stepped over the threshold.

For the first time she got a good look at the space, all the nooks and miniature caves were the same as she remembered, but now with a clear head, she had the feeling that this was less a cave than it was the epicenter of a labyrinth. The space was also unusually bright, more than it had the right to be with just the candles she had seen last night, looking up towards the ceiling she saw a bare chandelier, but mounted on the ceiling around it were mirror panels, reflecting the light all around the room like an artificial sun. And sitting there at the organ, his frame hunched over the keys, scribbling at music sheets was the man who had called her his angel of music. He was stripped down to the basic layers of clothing, the collar and sleeves of his white shirt were unbuttoned, and his dark hair seemed a little less groomed though if this was as casual as he dressed in the comfort of his own home it made you wonder what 'disheveled' might look like on him.

The phantom finished making new notes on his score and began playing the organ once again, stepping fully out into the open Orihime stood for a moment, watching the movement of his arms, and brief flash of expression across his face. The tune he played was unlike anything she'd ever heard before. Perhaps part of it was thanks to the instrument he was playing, but the way the music blasted from the organ, creating a kind of pressure in the air, was almost akin to a religious experience.

When the phantom finished playing his piece Orihime heard him let out an exhale full of what sounded like relief, feeling the gaze on him a pair of green eyes turned to see her standing at the bottom of the small slope that the organ sat atop of. He rose from his seat briefly, whether he actually meant to stand up and greet her or this was just a form of wordless acknowledgement she wasn't sure, but he sat back down and promptly returned his attention to his sheet music.

Ascending the steps towards where the phantom sat, she watched as he filled in the blank lines of sheet music with one hand while the fingers of his other played with the keys on the far end of the organ. The melody he played now was gentler and softer by far than what she had heard earlier, he was to aware of her presence now to get truly lost in the music. She came to stand behind him, and then slowly but not hesitantly brought her hands up to rest on his upper arms. She felt a shiver run along the limbs under her touch, as if he was unused to the sensation. Orihime rubbed her hands slowly up and down his biceps, trying to induce some relaxation, and slowly but surely she felt the tension leave him as he began to calm himself and grow accustomed to the feeling of her hands. After awhile Orihime slid her hands upwards and onto his shoulders, absentmindedly rubbing her thumbs into the junction where his shoulder blades met the base of his neck.

He made no verbal comment about this but his hands went still where they had been working, and he leaned his head back until it touched her abdomen. She saw that he had closed his eyes, turning all his attention to her ministrations, and it struck Orihime that they were in almost a mirror of the positions they'd been in last night.

Sliding one of her hands up his neck, she reached the ends of his hair and took a lock from the nape of his neck between her thumb and forefinger, it was a pleasant feeling, rubbing the strands between her two digits, almost like the softness of the bristles on new paint brushes.

He really wasn't what everyone thought, not a divine messenger or a specter of fearful thought and imagination. He was just a man, an unusual man, but flesh and blood just the same. Orihime supposed that meant he had deceived her, but the fact that this revelation came with the reveal that he was something she could properly look on and touch took and hurtful feelings out of that thought.

Feeling a bit daring, Orihime plunged her hand fully into the dark mass of his hair, combing her fingers along the crown. She did this twice more before her fingers bumped into something hard, the edge of his mask. He hadn't known when she would wake up, so had he worn this all night? Even given her current circumstances, that struck Orihime as an exceptionally odd thing. Feeling the sanded down edge of the bone white mask with the tip of her finger, Orihime couldn't help the thought that it shouldn't take more than a nudge to push it off his face.

A paper white hand shoot up to grab her around the wrist. "Don't." He intoned.

Orihime's fingers flinched away, and after a moment he released his grip on her wrist. She pulled her arms closer to her chest. "Why do you wear that mask?"

He didn't answer her right away, just sat at the organ with his hands clenching over the keys, the muscles in his shoulder were rigid. "How is it that you think of me?" He asked, "As a teacher? An angel?"

His tone had gone cold, almost emotionless, she rubbed at the spot where he had grabbed her wrist.

When she didn't answer him he stood up and moved away, setting off down the other stairs without looking at her. "If you saw the things I hid from you, you would lose any kind regard you had for me."

He stated all of this like it were a simple truth, not a worry or opinion, or even the insult to her character Orihime felt it was. Letting go of her wrist, Orihime stomped after him.

"You think so lowly of me?" She accused. She left no room for him to avoid her question, she got right up to him, so unless he wanted to walk straight into a wall...

Instead he turned his head slightly, just enough that their gazes could meet out of the corner of his eye. When he did answer her, his voice was unreadable. "I think so lowly of humans."

He maneuvered himself around where she had thought she was blocking his path, moving further into his lair. Orihime followed his movements with a slightly worried gaze. _Humans?_ Like he was something separate.

Another thought struck Orihime as her eyes took in the area he was walking around, through all the holes in the wall and seeming corridors, none seemed to house a second bedroom. He seemed to still be wearing the same clothes as last night, and Orihime was fairly certain she would have noticed if she was in bed with another person, no matter how deep a sleeper she could be. So did that mean...

"Did you sleep at all last night?" She asked out of the blue.

The dark haired man went still at her sudden change in conversation, and in fact he stared at her with a look of near bewilderment. But of course he gathered himself and acted as if nothing had affected him.

"I did not feel the need to rest, nor would my mind have let me. I was at work." Was the only answer he gave.

Orihime scrunched her eyebrows together, that didn't sound very good, did he not sleep because she had taken the bed and he was just trying to be polite?

No. That didn't seem like something he'd do. Then the memory of the sheet music on his organ came to her mind, was he composing?

A happy laugh bubbled its way up and out of Orihime's throat, she had been surrounded by musicians and composers for as long as she could remember, and she'd become accustomed to their strange habits, falling into melodramatic behaviour, foregoing sleep and food 'for the sake of their art', looking at him through this lens, the phantom suddenly seemed much less otherworldly.

"Well I suppose I can understand that," Orihime offered her sullen teacher a sunny expression, she closed her eyes to do so which means she missed how taken aback he looked. "As long as you don't make to much of a habit of staying up all night, I wouldn't like to think you're not getting enough sleep Phan-"

Orihime snapped her mouth closed as soon as she realised what she'd been about to say. Orihime cringed inwardly, not daring to meet his eyes she looked down at her feet.

The air between them had snapped when she almost called him the phantom. She had called him angle last night, but she just couldn't anymore, she knew he was nothing so intangible now, and she didn't mean to use the other name he was refereed by, but that left her with nothing to call him by.

Almost as if reading her thoughts, a voice cut through her inner spiraling, "Ulquiorra."

Orihime snapped her head up and found that a pair of intense green eyes were suddenly much closer to her than they had been before she looked away. "Ul-qui..." the syllables came skittishly from her lips, having never said such a strange name before.

"My name is Ulquiorra Schiffer. Don't refer to me as the rest of them do." He instructed, but his voice was almost drowned out by the sheer intensity of his eyes.

Yesterday he had been an angel of music, last night he had been the phantom of the opera, this morning he was a flesh and blood man, and now he even had a name. Ulquiorra Schiffer.

Orihime parted her lips, wanting to speak it, to feel the shape of it. But she was pulled away from the tunnel that had built around the two of them, when a cool hand grabbed a hold of her own.

She gasped a little in surprise, and the Ulquiorra was suddenly pulling her along the floor and down towards the water.

"It's time to leave." His words were hurried. "Those fools who run my theatre will be missing you."

xxXXxx

 **Mystery After Gala Night**

 **Soprano's Flight**

Sosuke Aizen smirked to himself as his eyes skimmed across the headlines of the newspapers. He was sitting in his carriage, analysing the critical reaction to last nights events. When entering into the theater business he had initially assumed it would be all reviews and columns in the society pages, but this was proving to be much better.

Running his eyes along the first paragraph of an 'expose' written by one Shuhei Hisagi in the Bulletin claimed the mysterious 'they' were **"Mystified" "Baffled"** and in suspect of **"Foul Play"**.

He was alone at the moment, and as they were driving through the middle of the city he was fairly certain any sounds he made would be swallowed up by the crowd. So he allowed himself this one brief moment to break his composure, Sosuke brought his hand up to his eyes, tipped his head back and laughed out at the ridiculousness of these people.

They spent their daylight hours sustaining themselves on these rumours and conspiracy's, a Prima Donna throws a fit and walks out on the show before opening night, an annoying but not outstanding event. However the opera going masses instantly clamoured to turn it into a bigger mystery, because surely there must be something going on behind the scenes.

While not having to deal with these tedious trials of public opinion would have been ideal, the amusement he got from the fact that the crowd would still pack the aisle and cheer at the end of the show despite half the cast disappearing went a ways to soothe him.

The carriage came to a stop at the steps of Las Noches and Aizen set his face back into it's usual mask. He left the newspapers and set out to work.

Gossip really was worth its weight in gold.

Once he was inside, he met Urahara halfway up the main staircase, the blonde man, having just emerged from the office, was wearing an upset expression.

"We have a problem." He said in lieu of a greeting.

Aizen waved away what he thought the concern was about, "Don't tell me your taking this fanfare at face value. People love a scandal."

"It's not that." Urahara interrupted, holding up two letters with familiar spidery handwriting.

Any trace of a good mood quickly evaporated, "What does yours say?" Aizen asked, pulling the envelope addressed to him out of Urahara's grasp.

Urahara unfolded his letter, coughing dramatically before commencing his recital.

"Dear Mr. Urahara,

I was pleased with last nights performance. I think you will agree that Ms. Inoue enjoyed a great success, Cirruci's departure was hardly a cause for lamentation. The dancers were applaudable but the chorus has room for improvement.

Your faithful servant, O.G."

Aizen rolled his eyes at the choice of sign off, before opening his own letter and reading it aloud.

"Dear Mr. Aizen,

I send this letter as a reminder that my salary for this month has yet to be paid. I am aware that no one likes a debtor, so it's better if my orders are obeyed. You may send the money by return of post.

Your faithful servant, O.G."

Crumpling the letter in his fist, Aizen tossed the scrap of paper over the banister. "Just who I wonder, is the one sending these to us." He amused.

"A funny kind of specter," Urahara murmured as he reread his letter, "what kind of ghost asks for money?"

Before their conversation could continue, the sound of the front doors being thrown open boomed throughout the space.

"Where is she?!" Bellowed the newly arrived Ichigo Kurosaki strode into Las Noches, when his eyes landed on the two men on the stairs he quickly made his way towards them, a stormy look on his face.

"Where is who?" Aizen asked calmly.

"Orihime! Where is she?" Ichigo scowled.

"How would we know where she is?" Urahara asked with an utterly false look on his face, "I'm just a humble, but handsome, Opera house manager."

This just aggravated Ichigo more, "Don't give me that crap! And just which of you sent me this?" The ginger haired young man pulled a envelope that had already been ripped open from his pocket and held it in front of them.

"And may I ask what exactly is it we are meant to have sent?" Aizen deadpanned, pulling the envelope from Ichigo's grip.

The contents read thus;

 _Ichigo Kurosaki,_

 _Do not fear for Ms. Inoue. The angel of music has her under his wing. Make no attempt to see her again._

Compared to the others it was a short note, and almost hostile seeming. No sign off, nor an honorific.

"If you didn't write it who did?" Ichigo asked.

But once again the front doors were thrown open, with even more force this time. Cirucci Sanderwicci had returned to Las Noches.

"Where is he!?" She shrieked. The Prima Donna was a tornado of skirts and hair ornaments, Dordino following faithfully behind her.

"Ah Miss Sanderwicci, welcome back." Aizen smiled placatingly.

"Where is your precious patron?!" Her face was comparable to a fury of myth as she ascended the stairs towards them.

"Excuse me?" Ichigo turned to her, suddenly confused.

Cirucci fixed him with a dagger filled glare, "I got your hateful little letter, and you listen to me, I don't care what other people let you get away with just because your family is new money, I resent that you would think of even doing such a thing." her tone went soft at the end, as she pulled out a handkerchief to dab at crocodile tears.

"Did you really write Miss Sanderwicci a hateful letter?" Aizen asked Ichigo.

"Of course not!" Ichigo protested.

"That kind of thing really isn't Mr. Kurosaki's style." Urahara agreed.

"So you're going to look me in the eye and tell me this isn't the letter you wrote?" Cirucci pulled a folded up letter from her petticoat.

"And what is it that I'm meant to have wrote?- Written." Ichigo questioned.

Cirucci read aloud the letter;

"Miss Sanderwicci,

You're presence at the Las Noches Opera House is no longer required, Ms. Orihime Inoue will be taking your place in all future productions. Do not attempt to defy my words to you, this is not a negotiation, this is an order."

She waved the letter dramatically through the air when she finished reading it

"You know," Aizen spoke up, "I'm noticing an abundance of talk _about_ Ms. Inoue, but a lack of _actual_ Ms. Inoue."

"Orihime is unwell." Came the voice of Tier Harribel, who was now standing at the bottom of the stairs, hands resting on the head of her cane.

"Well bring her out here!" Cirucci demanded, "She ought to be able to answer for some of this."

"I do not think that is wise ma'am." Harribel answered calmly. She then pulled a folded piece of paper from her skirt pocket, "I have a note."

"More notes, just what we need." Aizen muttered to himself.

Ichigo stepped down the stairs and held his hand out questioningly in front of Harribel, "May I?"

She handed him the folded note, and he opened it with an impending sense of dread.

 _Gentlemen,_

 _I have now sent you several notes of the most amiable nature, detailing how my theater is to be run._

 _You have not followed my instructions._

 _I shall give you one last chance. Orihime Inoue has revealed her talents to you, and I am anxious that her career should progress. In your new production of 'Il Muto', you will therefore cast Ms. Inoue in the role of the Countess, and in the event that Miss. Sanderwicci should return in time for this production, she is to be cast in the role of the pageboy, this part is silent, ideal casting you must agree._

 _I shall watch from my normal seat in box 5, which will be kept empty for me. Should these orders be ignored, a disaster beyond your imagination shall occur._

 _I remain, Gentlemen, your obedient servant,_

 _O.G._

A sigh escaped Ichigo's throat as he resisted the urge to crumple the paper in his hands, just who the hell was this guy? He then handed the letter to the people behind him, Urahara took the letter, Cirucci and Dordoni read it over his shoulder, Aizen didn't bother looking.

Cirucci let out a scoffing sound as she finished the letter, "Are you planning on listening to these insane rantings? What kind of business are you running here?"

Aizen and Urahara shared a look, both sensing the opportunity to steer the conversation towards their own ends. Urahara smoothly took Cirucci by the shoulder and began leading her up the stairs.

"Miss Sanderwicci, you mustn't concern yourself with such superstitious 'rantings' as you so keenly put it. But we do owe this letter a debt, as it has brought up a truly important issue!"

"Your return to Las Noches." Aizen slid into the conversation as he fell into step with the two, on the other side of Cirucci, successfully blocking off Dordoni who trailed after them, not looking pleased.

Ichigo watched the group move up the stairs and into the managers office. He didn't know Aizen very well, but Urahara had been a friend of his family for years, and if the two of them were as alike as it seemed, he was certain that by the end of the afternoon Cirucci Sanderwicci would announce her return to her role as the Prima Donna of Las Noches, completely of her own volition.

A ghost writer in the shadows, and those two in the managers office. Perhaps Aizen and Urahara were running the show but he had to question who was pulling the strings.

xxXXxx

The return to Las Noches was awkward and silent. Ulquiorra didn't speak or look at her as he lead her back up the path he'd lead her down last night. And the tenseness between them made any words she might have offered stick in her throat.

He opened a door and light filtered in through the tunnel, he took her hand again and lead her around where he stood by the threshold, not taking a step outside the tunnel himself. Once Orihime set foot on familiar wooden floorboards her eyes widened at where he had lead her.

It was an old obsolete music room, when the building had been renovated with the new gaslights a few years ago this section of it hadn't received the new treatment and so it seemed to fade from everyone's memories. But she had still come here to hide from everyone else when the reality of Sora's illness had become to much to bare. The idea of losing her brother had been a crushing weight, but she had felt a need to keep up appearances for Sora and their friends, she didn't want anyone to know how she was shaking inside. So she would hide herself away in this dusty old room with only an old wooden piano to show what it's original purpose had been.

This room, the chapel, Cirucci's dressing room. just how many places did these tunnels of his lead.

It was only when Ulquiorra moved to pull away from her, that Orihime realised he was still holding her hand. She squeezed her hand tight around his on instinct. Her stormy eyes whirling around to meet his startled ones.

Orihime had a sudden but deep rooted foreboding in her heart, that if Ulquiorra disappeared behind that wall she'd never see him again. And for all the confusion he caused, and fear he tried to instill, that thought scared her more than anything.

"Will I see you again?" She asked, willing her voice not to crack.

He focused his eyes down on their hands, on her hand trying to hold on to him. He looked confused.

"Do you want me to tell you the truth, or something that will comfort you." His voice was cold again. As if he was daring her to ask for a comforting lie. Had she really unsettled him so much that he would forget all he knew about how she was?

She pursed her lips together and sterned her expression. She gave a small pull on his hand, a tiny threat to pull him out of his shadows. She felt the nerves in his hands tighten.

"I want to see you again." She told him, with no room for argument.

A sound that might have been a chuckle if it wasn't so ill fitting for him rumbled in his throat. "Is that an order?"

Orihime didn't speak but she held his stare with and iron grip. Let him see the answer, let him see her resolve.

His hand shifted slightly in her hold, just enough to curl her fingers around her palm, "You're a brave girl."

Orihime's eyes widened in surprise as she saw the slight softening of his features. He leaned forward, just enough that his face was in the light, "Return to the day, Orihime Inoue, and the night will come again."

A warmth bloomed in her chest and her lips curled into a comforting smile. Abstractly she thought about how this might have looked to an outsider, it must have looked romantic. The mysterious figure pledging to return to his lady, a memory of a story of courtly love sparked in Orihime's mind, and her body responded to the scene in her mind.

She took his one hand in both of hers, raised it up to her mouth, and brushed her lips along his knuckles. "Until then, Ulquiorra Schiffer."

She flicked her eyes up to see his expression, he was still as a statue. Without word he drew his hand away from her and receded back into the shadows, the wood paneling on the wall slid back into place. Once again the room was completely mundane and unspectacular.

Orihime looked around for... she wasn't sure, some sign that the world at large looked as different as she felt it should, some shift in it's proportions or colouring to match the shift in her. But there was none.

Remembering that there was in fact a world outside this old music room, with people who were probably wondering where she was, Orihime made her way for the door and stepped out into the new day.


	6. A Turn for the Worse

**I do not own Bleach or Phantom of the Opera.**

 **Hello again everyone!**

 **Before we begin this chapter I'd like to thank LeeHimeChan, 1Piecegirl, Lucifer's Remnants, TanukiBloodWolf, otakumeera, and ulquihime7980, RedAmberLady95, Taiski, WhiteDragonAshley10, for favouriting.**

 **As well as 3vuep, Anemone Iris Sidera, LeeHimeChan, QueenChristine17, Random45Person, thereciev3r, RageGoat, eve9613, 1Piecegirl, Edeansnow, TheAvatarRoku, lady madland, , WhiteDragonAshley10, eve9613, lady madland, rojy, otakumeera, , RedAmberLady95, otakumeera and ulquihime7980 for following.**

 **Special thanks to Ni-sama97 and 3vuep for their reviews on the last chapter.**

 **And of course none of this would be happening without my amazing Beta reader Shi-Daisy. You're the best!**

 **Little side note, if you haven't listened to the Bleach concept covers (in relation to this chapter, Grimmjow's cover of echoes), you are denying yourselves an experience.**

* * *

That afternoon, the company of Las Noches packed into the seats of the auditorium. On her way to take a seat with the rest of the dancers, Orihime was lathered with congratulations on her performance last night (Though there was an unreadable look in Nel's eyes when she smiled at Orihime). Aizen and Urahara stood at the front of the stage, waiting for everyone to gather together, Harribel stood behind them, her hands resting on the head of her cane, the picture of poise. Orihime noticed Ichigo standing to the side, leaning against the wall of the stage, his eyes were downcast and his lips pulled into a sneer. He couldn't have been that upset about her missing dinner, could he?

Orihime leaned forward in her seat to ask Rukia if she knew what was bothering him, but she was stopped from that when Aizen started speaking.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" He didn't need to add 'your attention please', the rapt attention of the entire room was given to him at the sound of his voice. "As I'm sure you are all aware by now, last nights performance was both a critical and financial success."

There was a short burst of cheers from the auditorium, Aizen gave their reaction an amused chuckle before he continued, "And while I'm sure a number of you were up to the early hours celebrating, a wise man once said that the key to Success is action. So starting today we will be beginning the preparations for our next opera 'Faust'."

This provoked murmuring from the company, everyone leaned their heads towards the persons they were sitting next to, questioning what their new manager had just said. The normal procedure was to do the entire run of a production, and then the next show would be decided in the break period. The fact that preparations for the next show would be starting only the day after opening night was especially strange.

"First things first, casting." Aizen continued, a hush fell over the auditorium at those words. "We would like to take this opportunity to welcome back to Las Noches, the performers who will be taking the leading roles of Faust and Marguerite, Señor Dordoni Alessandro, and Señorita Ciruuci Sanderwicci."

The two in question strolled out onto the stage, arm in arm, from the wings. There was a round of timid applause at their entrance because that was what was expected, but the applause was mixed with many glances towards Orihime. The girl herself felt a sharp pang of sadness at the announcement. With Ciruuci back that meant her five minutes of fame were over, this was only to be expected of course, but when Orihime thought of the boundless joy she had felt last night, even if she was just a substitute Prima Donna, the idea of being shafted from the role so quickly felt like a stone in her gut.

"As for the role of Mephistopheles," Urahara's voice cut of the meandering claps, now finally speaking up from his place by his business partner, "after some consideration, we have decided shall be played by our very own Mr. Jaegerjaquez."

This lead to more enthused clapping (to Ciruuci's chagrin), and a rare comment from Soi Fon.

"That braggart as the devil? How fitting." The braided dancer sniffed, earning a chuckle of agreement from Rukia.

Aizen and Urahara announced the rest of the cast, Appachi, Mila Rose and Sung-Sun would be joining Nel in the chorus, along with Ggio, Shawlong and Yylfordt.

Orihime would return to the ballet for this performance. She wouldn't even sing.

Perhaps it was obnoxious of her to think that any of the praise she had gotten for her performance last night would instantly lead to bigger and brighter things, she'd been in the Opera business long enough to know that's just not how things worked. Perhaps it was the feeling that she would be disappointing Ulquiorra by fading into the background once again.

No. It was simpler than that. Orihime was upset because she knew she was good enough for the leading roles, she was good enough and she wanted them. But Ciruuci had gotten there first, had established her talent and reputation, so it didn't matter how good Orihime was, Ciruuci could swan in and out of performances whenever she liked because her name on a bill would sell tickets.

It was the unfairness of it all.

xxXXxx

If one wishes to make a myth out of themselves, they must have two things in abundance; Patience and dedication.

It is not easy to be The Phantom of Las Noches, because there is a very fine line between being ignored and unknown by the human masses, and being the victim of their scrutiny.

For nearly all his life, Ulquiorra Schiffer had only ever been subjugated to the later. When he'd first made a home for himself beneath the floors of the opera house, and within its walls, he had been blessedly invisible for the first time in his life. But nothing lasts forever.

Eventually, he had learned how to move about the place unseen, which times of day and night left which halls and rooms empty. But this was a knowledge that came with trial and error. It had never been anything worse than someone hearing the sound of his movements, or just seeing the back of him disappear behind a wall or corner, but the scare of almost getting discovered had been enough to dedicate him to learning every hidden tunnel off by heart, after a while he even began creating new ones or making... adjustments to the existing tunnels.

For the first few years, Ulquiorra thought that this was enough for him, to barricade himself from the masses and stay wrapped in the shadows. He spent his time perfecting every craft that had caught his attention, he became and designer, a musician, and illusionist, but above all, he considered himself a composer. But as the rumors of an opera ghost elevated into an urban legend, he began to realize there were certain advantages to having an alter ego.

But of course, there were drawbacks.

Yamamoto had been an easy manager to work with, more than slightly superstitious but above all old and tired, he'd been more than happy to play along with the orders in his letters if it meant things going smoothly. These new ones, Aizen and Urahara, they were young and ambitious. He'd watched them as they made their dealings with Yamamoto, naturally, he was the first to know about the change in management before it happened. Based on what he'd seen of the two of them, he knew they'd be tricky. When one possessed the type of cunning they did you could either be the villain or the king and both seemed set on the later.

The option of staging an accident for the two of them had been present he knew, but he felt there was hope for at least one of them to learn how things were to be done, Las Noches needed a manager after all and beggars couldn't be choosers.

Giving Orihime the leading role had been a sign of promise on their part, so now Ulquiorra pressed himself against the walls, concealed by the alcoves carved into the exterior of Las Noches and the dimness of the evening. Being outdoors like this was always unpleasant, he despised the feeling of exposure it left him with. But it was necessary.

He'd been waiting for ten minutes before he finally sensed the approach of who he'd been waiting for. Yammy Llargo was by no means conspicuous, Ulquiorra doubted it was physically possible for a man his size to be so, but his stature and general aura also made him the kind of person others pointedly avoided looking at, which Ulquiorra supposed made up for his lack of stealth.

Once Yammy was close enough, Ulquiorra made his presence known. "You have it?"

Yammy's eyes flickered in his general direction, he couldn't see Ulquiorra, but this was the place where they always met when the faceless man had need of him.

"Of course." Yammy responded gruffly, thrusting a crumpled piece of paper in the general direction he heard Ulquiorra's voice coming from. All he saw was a flash of alabaster skin snatch the report out of his hand.

General labor wasn't an advantageous position in any sense, but it allowed Yammy to be in places Ulquiorra couldn't, to watch and listen in when Ulquiorra was unable, to write it all down and report back to the true owner of Las Noches.

Ulquiorra went into the report with certain expectations, it would be a confirmation that everything he had instructed of the managers in his letters was indeed coming to pass. It took a moment to decipher Yammy's handwriting. When he did, he ripped the page into pieces.

Yammy heard the sound of ripping paper and asked what was going on, he stood there talking to the wall for five minutes before he realized no one was there anymore.

xxXXxx

Two weeks later, Hannibal was wrapped up and they were well into rehearsals for Faust. The set that would soon be bathed in red lighting stood in the background like ancient ruins. Orihime stood in the wings with Rukia and Nemu, they were awaiting their cue to dance onto the stage and usher in the next scene, at least that's what they were supposed to be doing, Orihime wouldn't have been surprised if they missed their cue given what was currently going on on stage, and she was sure Yoruichi and Soi Fon were just as astonished in the other wings.

Grimmjow stood center stage singing Mephistopheles' 'Voici des roses'. And, well, Orihime would be lying if she said Grimmjow's singing voice wasn't just a little... seductive.

"He really is full of surprises," Orihime whispered to Rukia, both of them with their eyes on the bluenette.

"It seems almost... against his character." Nemu murmured.

"Ichigo's going to be more surprised than anyone when he sees this, he's very much under the opinion that Grimmjow doesn't possess any non-fighting related talents." Rukia mentioned.

Both their conversation and Grimmjow's solo were interrupted by a sudden scream.

The three dancers spun around and ran backstage, following the sound of where the scream had come from, they followed the rest of the crew who had heard it towards the costume railings they kept backstage for quick changes, just in time to see Nel running out from behind them, clutching the front of her dress and an expression of distress, humiliation, and rage contorting her features. Nnoitra stumbled out after her, one hand clutching his face and blood waterfalling from between his fingers.

Orihime grabbed onto Nel by her upper arms as the teal haired actress ran into the wall of the wall of people that had begun to form around the scene.

"Nel? Nel what happened? Are you okay?" Orihime tried to get her friends attention, she could feel the negative emotions vibrating in Nel's muscles.

After a few harsh breaths, Nel looked Orihime in the eyes (her own light brown ones were welling up with angry tears), "Nnoitra. He snuck up on me while I was changing- He- He tried to-" Nel's words were a jumble, tripping over her tongue.

Nnoitra let out a chuckle at the woman's distress and Orihime pushed Nel behind her before shooting an angry glare at the offender.

"Oh don't give me that look." Nnoitra sneered, pointlessly trying to wipe away the blood that was pouring down his face from out of his nose. "Especially you three." He waved his finger at Orihime, Nemu and Rukia, "You spend your time running around this place with your tits half out and you think something like this was never going to happen?"

Nnoitra let out a bark of laughter, seemingly oblivious to the murderous intent that was being aimed at him.

"Where's Urahara? Where's Aizen?" Nel began yelling again, "I want him gone and out of here before I kill him!" She swore, pushing her way through the crowd towards the stage.

Just as Nel was running in one direction, Grimmjow was heading in the other, plowing towards Nnoitra with burning eyes.

But before he could reach the master of flies, one of the dogs bodies came between them, blocking Grimmjow's path.

"Get the fuck outta my way Yammy!" Grimmjow snarled.

"You know the rules, no fighting in the theater." The larger man reminded Grimmjow, placing a huge hand on his chest, "You want to settle this, you take it outside."

"Too bad I work such long hours." Nnoitra 'lamented', "Months can go by before I get a chance to step out of this place."

"You son of a-" Grimmjow made to lunge at Nnoitra again, but Yammy caught him, and began dragging the ragging man towards the backstage exit.

Nnoitra just laughed as he turned around and casually began ascending the stairs, returning to his place in the rafters. Everyone left was hesitant to move after that, the atmosphere had turned toxic from the events just passed. No one wanted to resume business as usual, but neither could they think of anything else to do. If everyone hadn't been so caught up in their thoughts over the matter, one of them might have sensed they were being watched.

xxXXxx

Nnoitra looked down on everyone from his place in the rafters. He leaned his elbows against the rope of the bridges the suspended him in the air, years of doing so had erased any hesitancy he might have of moving around up there.

Nel had indeed gone to Aizen and Urahara, and they'd promised her that they would do something about it. He chuckled to himself as if they could do anything to him. They couldn't afford to sack the Chief of Flies in the middle of rehearsals, and by the time the show was over, everyone would have forgotten about Neliel's little temper tantrum. Speaking of Neliel...

Down below they were all running through a dress run of the opera, the theater managers were somewhere out in the seats, watching how the actors had progressed, but Nnoitra's eyes were following the offensive teal color of Neliel's hair. His lips curled into the sneer they always did when his eyes fell upon her. She thought so highly of herself, strutting across the boards with that proud expression on her face. Whatever 'trouble' he might get into later it was worth it, for that one moment where he saw her confidence shatter in her mud colored eyes. Maybe after all this, he should turn his attention to some new pet, that busty redhead certainly looked promising, an innocence that had yet to be smashed, or that doll looking one with the plaited hair?

There was a flash of movement out of the corner of Nnoitra's eye, turning his head in confusion he saw nothing. Still, it pulled him out of his internal monologue enough to remind him that he needed to drop the next backdrop in a minute. Lifting his chin up from the railings he made his way across the rope bridge, curiosity forcing him to turn his head backward and just make sure there was, in fact, nothing behind him. There was not. So he turned his head back around and found himself face to face with a mask.

Nnoitra's body reacted before his head or his voice, jerking backward and grabbing onto one of the climbing ropes that lead to other ladders, he had been telling stories of the phantom of the opera long enough to know what he'd just seen.

He heaved himself across the ropes and landed on another bridge only to find the phantom looking across from him again. Nnoitra feinted a jump to the right, the phantom followed, but then Nnoitra threw himself to the left, making a break for the ropes that would swing him towards the ladder.

The phantom quickly corrected himself, grabbing onto one of that bridges ropes and climbing into the air as expertly as Nnoitra did, and then landing just a few feet behind the master of flies, the phantom approached Nnoitra like a storm cloud closed in on a boat in the middle of the ocean. Nnoitra made one last-ditch effort, lunging forward and grabbing a climbing rope in front of him, he would swing like a damned ape if he had to, no one attacked him like this in his own domain. But Nnoitra's footing was not as sure as he was.

A foot caught in the gap between wooden planks.

The Phantom got closer.

Limbs flailed.

Ropes caught.

The Phantom got closer.

Ropes twisted. Skin burned.

The phantom was there.

Air disappeared. Hope turned into desperate gasping.

The phantom was there. The phantom was all around.

Nnoitra Gilga fell from his rafters.

And that's when the screaming started.


	7. Theater superstitions

**I do not own Bleach or Phantom of the Opera.**

 **Hello again everyone!**

 **Before we begin this chapter I'd like to thank LeeHimeChan, 1Piecegirl, Lucifer's Remnants, TanukiBloodWolf, otakumeera, and ulquihime7980, RedAmberLady95, Taiski, Aliceinwonderland0506, MegaSPSolarFlare, RedAmberLady95, Unique12, WhiteDragonAshley10, for favouriting.**

 **As well as 3vuep, Anemone Iris Sidera, LeeHimeChan, QueenChristine17, Random45Person, thereciev3r, RageGoat, eve9613, 1Piecegirl, Edeansnow, TheAvatarRoku, lady madland, , WhiteDragonAshley10, eve9613, lady madland, rojy, otakumeera, , RedAmberLady95, , Aliceinwonderland0506, Edeansnow, MegaSPSolarFlare, , OwlStorm17, Random45Person, RedAmberLady95, Unique12, lady madland, otakumeera and ulquihime7980 for following.**

 **Special thanks to 3vuep, Savi and thereciev3r for their reviews on the last chapter.**

 **I lament to admit that this chapter is rather short, I had originally planned for this chapter to be the included content, Ulquiorra's origin and some other events that I had planned, but since I was writing the draft for this chapter in my public library the wifi cut out just as I hit the save button and I lost most of what I have written, then I went on vacation, then I got sick, just the universe having a twisted sense of humour really. Just to assure you guys that I'm not giving up on this story I'm posting this now and I'll try and get the rest of the content I lost into the next chapter.**

 **And apologize to my beta-reader Shi-Daisy, for killing off Nnoitra, I hope she can forgive me?**

* * *

Orihime breathed deeply into the hands that she had pressed against her mouth, she screwed her eyes shut but just as quickly snapped them open again, closing her eyes only made it all the more clearer.

The image of Nnoitra's body, somehow stiff yet limp looking, hanging from the rope around his neck, suspended over the stage and swaying back and forth like a pendulum.

After being called into the theater by all the screaming, Aizen and Urahara had herded everyone off stage and into the lobby. On her way off stage Orihime had snuck a glance over her shoulder and down to the orchestra pit, just in time to catch a glimpse of Starkk wrapping his arms around Lillinette's head, blocking her view, while his daughter struggled in his grasp and demanded to now what was going on. It brought Orihime a little relief to know that the child would be spared such a horrid sight.

An hour later and they were all still sitting in the lobby, but now what felt like the entire police department was scouring Las Noches. Rukia's older brother, the chief of police, Byakuya Kuchiki, stood at the top of the grand staircase with his deputy Renji Abari, speaking with Aizen and Urahara. The four soon disappeared into the managers office.

As for the rest of them, they were taking turns being questioned by the group of detectives that were taking statements. For the dancers, they would be answering to detectives Toshiro Hitsuguya and Rangiku Matsumoto.

"You really think it was an accident?" The white haired detective asked, from where he stood in front of the assembled group of dancers.

"If you're asking me if I think it was suicide, the answer is no. If you're asking me if I think Nnoitra Gilga was enough of a drunken, lecherous oaf, that he would wind up tangling himself in his own ropes and losing his footing, I wouldn't put it past him." Soi Fon responded, standing at the front of the group with her arms folded, pointedly looking down at the detective.

He did not appreciate that.

"What my partner is asking you for, is a yes or no answer." Matsumoto jumped in, trying to diffuse the situation.

Soi Fon shifted her eyes up to the taller blonde, "Then yes." She stated simply.

"So you don't think it could have been murder?" Toshiro asked, drawing all sets of nearby eyes to his stern face.

There was a resounding silence. Nnoitra had no shortage of people who didn't like him, and that was just counting the ones within Las Noches, it was an unspoken agreed sentiment amongst everyone that murder wasn't a far fetched idea. But it was also an unspoken agreement that the police would not come to that conclusion with any help from them, because if they started investigating this as a murder it would be nothing but trouble for all of them. Especially Nel, of course none of them would ever suspect her of something like this, but if the police found out about the incident that had happened earlier that day, it was a quick way to become the primary suspect. And regardless of what their personal relationships might be like, people in this theater looked out for each other.

"No." Soi Fon stated clearly, without doubt, speaking for all of them.

Orihime spotted a spark in Toshiro's eyes that suggested he was about to form a rebuttal, perhaps it was a mistake to let Soi Fon speak for their group, these two personalities were like ice and steel.

"Well you know who it _could_ have been..." Yoruichi's voice drawled, as she slipped out from behind Soi Fon, leaning her arm on the other woman's shoulder, subtly pushing her back from the detectives.

Toshiro raised his eyebrow in interest, Rangiku leaned forward, both waiting for the rest of Yoruichi's sentence.

Said ballerina slid her eyes side-to-side conspiratorially, "Have you heard about our phantom problem?"

And just like that the two detectives (or Toshiro at least), had taken enough statements from the dancers. People loved to talk about what a manipulator Urahara could be, they tended to over look how skilled Yoruichi was at wrapping people around her little finger.

The rest of the group relaxed a little once the detectives were gone, confident in the knowledge that the rest of their co-workers would be able to convince the police they had nothing of interest to tell them.

The phantom was such a local superstition, only a handful of people outside of the Las Noches staff actually knew about him. But everyone knew that theater folk were just the type to buy into the idea that not only would there be an opera ghost, but that he could be behind such an atrocious act. At least that's what the police would think.

But Yoruichi's words had a very different effect on two of her colleagues, Rukia, who was now remembering an earlier conversation with Ichigo, where he discussed with her the letters, and their promise of tragedy, and Orihime, the one person in the room who could truly put a face to the myth of the phantom.

Even if Yoruichi wasn't being serious when she spoke, the suggestion still sent a pang of cold nerves through Orihime's body. Her first instinct was to protest, there was no way Ulquiorra could be responsible for something like this, there's no way he could be capable-

But then she remembered the strength with which he'd gripped her wrist when she'd touched his mask, just shy of enough force to bruise. She remembered that the first time she'd seen him was when he emerged from a dark tunnel hidden behind a dressing room mirror, she remembered wondering on her journey back to the surface, just how many there were? Where did they all lead?

Her eyes widened slightly and began running along every surface and out of the way fixture in the lobby. Was he here now?

Another half hour later and Captain Kuchiki announced that while the statements gathered today would be reviewed, at this point in time the death of Nnoitra Gilga was to be considered accidental. This statement drew an uneasy sigh from the residents of Las Noches, Aizen and Urahara followed this announcement with one of their own, stating that rehearsals would be put on hold for the next three days, as a kind of mourning period. As the police left the building, the tight clusters everyone had been placed in for questioning began to brake up and drift. Rukia was the first to from the dancers, chasing her brother out the door so she could speak with him.

Orihime took slightly longer to leave, her body felt strangely shaky. She did her best not to break into a run like her feet wanted, instead moving in as much of a non-attention drawing manner as possible, as she made her way round to the back of the building, then up staircases and down long forgotten corridors, to an old obsolete music room that all but two people had forgotten.

Orihime leaned her whole body against the door as she closed it, even though she was almost entirely certain that no one would be following in her footsteps, she still felt a compulsion to block the entrance in some way.

Sucking in a harsh inhale into her lungs, Orihime turned to face the empty room.

"Ulquiorra?"

No answer.

"Please don't be quiet, if you're there, I need to speak with you." Orihime moved into the center of the room, fixing her eyes to wooden paneling she remembered being the false one.

Silence answered her again.

"I need to speak with you." Her voice was forced to remain steady but firm, she would not scream or let it waver. Despite the growing lump in her throat. "I need you to- to. Please, I just, I need you to- please, please just tell me it wasn't you."

Now she could feel her lips quivering, Orihime ducked her head and began rubbing at her closed eyes with the heels of her palms, she would not let herself cry.

While she was ministering to her crumbling composure, the sound of a latch clicking open, and footsteps on wooden floor boards. When Orihime looked up again, there he was. Impeccably dressed in a three piece suit, his dark hair wasn't groomed at all, dark locks falling between and around his eyes, his eyes cold but observing, and his face unreadable. And not just because of the mask.

"I do not believe that you would become so upset over that trash." Was the first thing he said.

"That's not why I'm upset!" She snapped back.

He didn't show any visual response, "Really?"

"Yes!-No!- Maybe? Just answer my question!"

Ulquiorra closed his eyes and placed his hands into his trouser pockets. "Does my answer even matter?"

The lump in Orihime's throat hardened into a rock. "Excuse me?"

"If I say I wasn't involved would you believe me? Or would doubt take root in your mind and poison your opinion of me. And if I said that I was responsible for Gilga's death, it's hardly going to change anything is it?" His voice wasn't angry at all, but it wasn't quite as empty as he must have wanted it to be, to Orihime, he sounded tired. She was beginning to feel the same.

She slunk over to the piano bench, lowering herself onto the seat, sliding her hand over the lid, trying to grab some feeling of solidity from the sensation under her fingers.

Orihime closed her eyes for a small moment and took three deep breaths. "If you're asking me to decide for myself, then I choose to believe you are innocent." She opened her eyes and meet the green pair that were watching her intently.

"When the others first started talking about you being involved my first instinct was to believe that you couldn't have killed Nnoitra. But then when I tried to think more on the reasons why it couldn't have been you, I realized... I don't know you."

If were at all possible the line of his mouth got flatter. "Don't be ridiculous woman, of course you know me."

"But I don't!" Orihime protested, jumping to her feet, "I know that you're a genius, when it comes to music at least, I know that you live beneath Las Noches, I know that you have god-knows how many tunnels that go god-knows where, which is how you get around. I know that you've been there for me, watching over me for years... almost since I came here." Orihime leaned her face closer to his with a cheeky grin, "I know that for all your stoicism, you have a dramatic streak in you."

Ulquiorra cut his green eyes to the wall, a sign of embarrassment?

But then Orihime frowned, sinking back on her heels, "But I don't know why you live under Las Noches, I don't know where you came here from, I don't know where you learned music, do you have family? Friends? And I don't know..."

Her voice trailed off, and her eyes fell down to the floor. The next words she wanted to say hurt where they sat on her tongue, she clenched her fists in the fabric of her skirt, but they needed to be said. She didn't need to be afraid, she required daring, "I don't know why you pay so much attention to me. Why does my talent matter so much to you?"

Orihime kept her eyes on the floor so she didn't see the look that struck Ulquiorra's face, she didn't see in his eyes that he wanted to instantly tear into any thoughts she might have had that any time he spent on her was wasted. But he didn't say any of that.

Ulquiorra stepped into Orihime's space, forcing her to look back up at him without touching her. When her dove grey eyes filled his vision once more, Ulquiorra visibly swallowed, but that was the only sign he gave away that what he was about to say was going to be difficult for him.

"I was born in Persia." He began.


	8. The Phantom of the Opera

**I do not own Bleach or Phantom of the Opera.**

 **Hello again everyone!**

 **Before we begin this chapter I'd like to thank 1piecegirl, Aliceinwonderland0506, Hellsing's Reaper, LeeHimeChan, Lonelyphantom021, Lucifer's remnants, MegaSPSolarFlare, RedAmberLady95, Taiski, TanukiBloodWolf, Unique12, WhiteDragonAshley10, golden-eyedwolf842, otakumeera, ulquihime7980 for favoriting.**

 **Thanks to 1piecegirl, 3vuep, , Aliceinwonderland0506, Anemone Iris Sidera, Edansnow, Hellsing's reaper, Krystalana, LeeHimeChan, Lonelyphantom021, MegaSPSolarFlare, , OwlStorm17, RageGoat, Random45Person, TheAvatarRoku, Unique12, WhiteDragonAshley10, eve9613, golden-eyedwolf842, lady madland, otakumeera, rojy, thereciev3r, ulquihime7980 for following.**

 **Special thanks to 3vuep, Hellsing's reaper and thereciev3r for their reviews on the last chapter.**

* * *

I was born in Persia. My parents were both servants in the home of the Shah. I remember nothing of them, I remember nothing of my early life. No, rather what I remember _is_ nothing, I remember the blur that everyday was, melding into each other.

I was born hideous, like a little monster. Even my parents for all that they lacked in life were capable of being repulsed by me. I don't know what possessed them to raise me for as long as they did, perhaps some feeble to assuage their consciences? I was feed but ignored, sheltered but no more than the rats that also made their home in the shadows and the cracks in the walls. No one knew of my existence, I grew up hidden and isolated, watching the lives of those who were a part of the world.

Many came to the Shah, royals and dignitaries, artisans and illusionists, performers and composers. That was the first time I ever heard real music, created with such intensity and precision. Listening to them, I felt entranced, I _felt_ for the first time in my life. I watched them closely while they were within reach, studied them as best as I was able.

But of course, nothing lasts forever.

I was found eventually. I was discovered by a footman, or a slave, I don't know, but they screamed when they saw me. My parents didn't step forward to claim or defend me, even if they had it would have been meaningless. I was thrown from the palace I been in all my life, and sold into the possession of a travelling caravan. A freak show.

I owe that part of my life for two things; it's where I received my first mask, even if it was just a sack. And it taught me the true nature of the world, that it is filled with masses that would come together to crowd around the deformed and unloved, to find joy in their condemnation just as easily as they scorn them. All the people that you could walk down the street with, I saw their true faces with these eyes of mine.

The caravan traveled from Persia, through Asia and into Europe. There was nothing about that time in my life that was of comfort to me, but it is where I met Yammy. It surprises you that I know him? Yes, I'm sure that it does, to you and the rest of Las Noches I'm sure he is just another strong man, working invisibly in the background, but he has been a set of eyes and ears above the ground for me for years. That must bring you a little comfort, the fact that no, I cannot be everywhere.

Eventually the caravan came to Spain, and I'd had no hopes that there would be anything different about this location, why should the city of counts offer me anything other than the cruelty I had found everywhere else in the world? But there was in fact something different, for it was in Barcelona that I met the young woman that you would come to know as Tier Harribel. She was just a student at the time, still studying ballet herself. It was after the caravan had closed its doors for business that she came to my cage. The caravan master had been beating me when she snuck in, a normal enough occurrence in my mind but based of the look on her face I suppose she thought it was quite terrible. The caravan master had left the door open in his stupor, she picked up a plank of wood in her hands and brought it down on the back of his head, sadly I don't think it was quite enough to kill him.

She didn't say anything to me, perhaps she didn't think I knew how to comprehend language, simply held her hand out to me like I was some kind of skittish creature. Insults to my intelligence aside, I could recognize that she was offering me a way out of the place that had become an offence to me. A school girl and a circus freak of course had little chance of escaping anywhere without being seen, but as it happened the one who ended up seeing us was Yammy, and of course he followed me as I left, no one ever did like to look his way for too long.

Harribel pulled us through the shadows along the back alleys of Barcelona, until she delivered us the monument in the making that had not yet been named Las Noches. The opera house was under construction at the time, barely more than a block of marble compared to its finished state. There had originally been plans for an underground system that could be used for deliveries and excess storage, those plans were quickly scrapped but not before they had already carved out the caverns underground, it was there that Tier left me with promises that she would return, which to give her credit, she did. Yammy remained above ground, gaining employment with the construction crew and feeding me information when I asked for it, once I became acclimatized to my new surroundings it became a simple enough matter to have Yammy steal the buildings blue prints and then return them once I had made my own additions.

I made a place for myself, satisfied at my new place in the world. It was dark, and quiet and empty, which had become the only things I wanted, I had experienced enough of the world and its inhabitants, and I had decided that a complete absence of them was the closest a wretch such as myself could come to happiness. But there were so many tunnels and vents, and cracks in the wall, sound from the opera and its people would inevitably leak into my empty spaces, it would seem the world was yet again refusing me my peace. But there was one sanctuary for me, the walls behind the chapel, they were thick and solid, sometimes I would fall asleep there and dream I was melting into nothing.

But then one day Urahara brought home a violin prodigy and his little sister, I didn't even notice at first, but then this little girl would come down into the chapel to light candles and hide from the chorus girls who were making fun of her hair colour. Do you remember it like I do? That first time I spoke to you? I remember that I had been drifting off in the darkness when suddenly I could hear singing, a lilting if inexperienced voice. I sat there for what felt like hours listening, I had every intention of simply waiting for you to quiet yourself and then return to sleep, but for whatever reason I peeked through the crack in the angel mural on the other side of the wall I was behind. And I saw you, for the very first time, sitting there in the middle of the floor, pulling at your hair, with tear tracks on your cheeks, eventually you stopped singing and for the first time in my life I didn't welcome the quiet that replaced it. You sat there unaware of me for a few moments longer, trying to compose yourself, and then when you got up to go away I reacted without thinking, looking back on my actions at the time I can think of no good reason why I did what I did, but I spoke out to you. I told you to stop singing from your throat.

 **XXX**

Orihime let out a shaky breath, she had realized he was finally telling her about his past, but... she hadn't expected that. She hadn't known what to expect. During the course of his story she had sunk back down onto the piano bench, the ground feeling strangely uneven, but her eyes had never left his face. And his eyes had remained firmly fixed on hers, their stares locked together with steel chains.

"So that's..." Orihime's voice barely rose above a whisper, she felt desperately that she should say something, but what could possibly be said?

"How I came to be 'The Phantom', yes." He answered the question she hadn't asked.

Orihime's eyes fell to her lap, she laced her fingers together and pressed them against her abdomen as if she were in pain, Ulquiorra kept watching her silently, studying every single tick and twitch. He had never divulged this much information about himself, in fact he'd never spoken this much to a single person, even Harribel who had cared for him in those first few years had accepted his stoicism without much question, the two of them had communicated almost wordlessly until he developed his network of written correspondence.

"You're so strong." Orihime said in little more than a breath.

Ulquiorra was almost certain he'd either misheard her or imagined her speaking all together, but as always, Orihime surprised him. She lifted her face to him again and her eyes were overflowing with tears, her lips shaking in a poor attempt to keep her composure. "To have lived through all of that... alone like you were... and to still be standing..."

His eyes widened and the straight line of his mouth curved downwards. "You must not have been listening woman, I owe my survival to aid of others, I am not above admitting as much."

Orihime shook her head ardently, droplets of tears flying lose from their place rimming her eyelids. Others were there to help you, but you never let them in, you never shared your heart with them." Her voice was shaking now.

 _His heart_

There was that word again. "How can you be so sure?" He asked her. A genuine sense of what you might call eagerness to hear her answer.

Orihime rose, despite her tears and voice, her body didn't shake at all. "I can see it in your eyes." She told him, "Your solitude."

Something twisted and contracted in his chest. Orihime Inoue, his angel of music was an inch away from him, looking up at him as if her soul were shattering in empathy, her eyes filling up with all the tears he had never cried for himself.

Orihime swallowed, "I still don't understand though, why you would spend so much time teaching me? You spent so long trying to hide, and then you invited me into your life."

Why was she asking this? Ulquiorra thought to himself, had he not made it clear?

So he told her in the simplest terms he could, "Because I have seen the world, the face of humanity, there is nothing that has escaped my sight. And of all the things my eyes have seen, the best by far is you."

Orihime's breath hitched in her throat, and the tears began streaming down her face in earnest. And then slowly, so slowly that it was like her arms were stopping and starting more than rising, Orihime brought her hands to Ulquiorra's face. Her fingers came to the edges of his mask, she felt him stop breathing, saw his pupils dilate, but he didn't try to stop her. After a heartbeat, to make sure what she was doing was right, Orihime eased the mask from his face.

Once again, Orihime wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but it hadn't been this. He had as much told her that the side of his face that he covered was disfigured, but it was more like he was missing the right side of his face.

There was barely any skin, only a handful of burnt looking muscle connected his jaw to his head, for the rest of his face it seemed his very skull were exposed. His black and yellow eye sat in a sunken in socket, a thin bit of skin for an eyelid flapped up and down when he blinked, he had no eyebrow but there was a prominent enough scar running along the ridge of his skull. He didn't have a nose, and though she didn't look down to check, Orihime felt with her thumb that the one she always thought he'd had was an illusion of the mask. Towards the end of his mouth his lips were twisted backwards and pulled towards the bridge of his nose, making them look bloated, his hair had been shaved away, far back from where his hairline was even on the left side of his face, or had it never grown there?

The sight was a shock, Orihime admitted, but she didn't flinch or gasp or scream like he seemed to expect her to do. The strangest part of it all was having him so exposed to her, considering where their relationship had started, she ran her eyes over every scarred and gaunt inch of him, and then she looked him straight in his mismatched eyes and conveyed her message to him without words, that no part of him was hideous to her.

"Let me ask you again woman, are you afraid of me?"

Why was he asking this? Had she not made herself clear? Orihime did her best not to sigh, this was a situation, and a man, that required patience. Orihime turned and set the mask down on the piano lid, when she came back to face Ulquiorra, she cradled his face in her palms and pulled him down just enough for her to press a kiss to the crown of his head.

"I'm not afraid." She whispered into his skin, "Really I'm not."

Ulquiorra Schiffer believed that he had seen all the world had to offer, the wonders of a thousand lives. But he never could have imagined that such a creature as Orihime Inoue existed.

 **XXX**

The two of them had stayed there for what felt both like the longest time and not enough time at all. But as always, the day called Orihime away from him, and he had to return once again to his place beneath Las Noches. The woman was as much a curse as a blessing, the status quo of his life had become so unfulfilling, the solitude that had been his sanctuary no longer numbed the pains in his soul like it used to, he wasn't sure when it had happened but Orihime had become the sun in his world, and everything revolved around her. He had never been an emotional person, he still wouldn't call himself such, but this plague of a woman was tearing away at all the things he thought he knew.

Ulquiorra would have felt at a loss for what to do, had he not already had things in motion, for now he had an opera to finish. And the sooner the better.

Ulquiorra docked his gondola into it's usual place, his familiar lodgings remained as he'd left them, but the moment he stepped foot on the grounds he felt something amiss in the air.

Running his fingers along his mask for the dozenth time since he'd placed it back on his face (he could still feel her eyes on him), and strode into his domain. He scanned every corner and possible hiding place, but the anomaly was in plain sight. Sitting in his approximation of a study, in the armchair he had placed by the small hearth he'd built into the wall, was the manager of the Las Noches opera house Sosuke Aizen.

"I must say, you do not disappoint. When you find out someone is living in a dug out cave under your opera house you hope for either something theatrical or to find a hunchback in the sewers." Aizen drawled out upon seeing Ulquiorra, he rose from his seat in one swift motion and began strolling around the space casually.

"How did you get down here?" Ulquiorra demanded.

Aizen smirked at him, "Not even a little surprised? That is a slight shame, though I do prefer to do business with your type of people, the kind that are straight to the point."

"How did you get down here?" Ulquiorra repeated.

"Your friend Yammy." Aizen answered simply, "But please don't be to upset with the simpleton, apply the correct pressure and stimulus and you'd be amazed at the things people will tell you."

"Why are you here?" Ulquiorra asked, standing face to face with the other man now.

Aizen grinned at him like a Cheshire cat, "Well as manager of the Las Noches opera house, I thought it was about time I had a chat with my most prominent employee."


	9. All I ask of You

**I do not own Bleach or Phantom of the Opera.**

 **Hello again everyone!**

 **Before we begin this chapter I'd like to thank 1piecegirl, Aliceinwonderland0506, Hellsing's Reaper, LeeHimeChan, Lonelyphantom021, Lucifer's remnants, MegaSPSolarFlare, RedAmberLady95, Taiski, TanukiBloodWolf, Unique12, WhiteDragonAshley10, golden-eyedwolf842, otakumeera, ulquihime7980 for favoriting.**

 **Thanks to 1piecegirl, 3vuep, , Aliceinwonderland0506, Anemone Iris Sidera, Edansnow, Hellsing's reaper, Krystalana, LeeHimeChan, Lonelyphantom021, MegaSPSolarFlare, , OwlStorm17, RageGoat, Random45Person, TheAvatarRoku, Unique12, WhiteDragonAshley10, eve9613, golden-eyedwolf842, lady madland, otakumeera, rojy, thereciev3r, ulquihime7980 for following.**

 **Special thanks to 3vuep for their review on the last chapter, and my wonderful Beta reader Shi-Daisy.**

* * *

By virtue of his position as chief of flies, Nnoitra spent most of his time out of the companies line of sight. So in a strange way, continuing on with life and work in his absence was easy to do.

That didn't stop Orihime from staring at the spot on the stage where his body had been hanging by one of his own ropes. The curtains were drawn across the stage and the dancers were waiting in the wings, you could hear the chattering sound of the audience on the other side, and Orihime could just imagine them sitting in their seats, whispering to each other about the 'mysterious death' that had been splashed across all the papers and was most likely the reason they were at the show tonight.

It would be unfair to Aizen and Urahara to say that there had been more incidents since they had become managers, but she would say that it felt like Las Noches had been in the papers a lot more lately.

Pursing her lips together in an upset line that wouldn't smudge her lipstick (one of many useful skills you learned in the theater buisness), Orihime let out a huff and fell in line with the rest of the girls making last minute costume checks and getting ready for the opening number. Orihime was a professional, she would do her job. But that didn't mean she had to like it.

 **:::**

Ulquiorra did not like this. He did not like being known. He did not like the fact that he was crawling through the dark spaces of his own opera house for the sake of some else's agenda, but the worst part was that the orders he was obeying were things he would have done anyway.

Pulling himself into the crawl space between the ceiling of the theater and the roof of Las Noches, Ulquiorra peered through the small window he usually used to watch performances from. The way this opera was being managed was appalling enough, but his box was also currently being occupied by the offensive orange hair of Ichigo Kurosaki, as well as the rest of his family. All part of Aizen's plan he was sure, but never the less, it felt like insult added to injury.

The opera was commenced beneath him, voices and instruments combined in an appropriately grandiose style, Aizen had given him enough free reign to choose the moment he'd make his move, and he had to wait for just the right one.

It was a little known fact, that the catwalk that ran around the domed ceiling, had some of the best acoustics in all of Las Noches. Pulling the piece of piano wire and a small blade from beneath his cloak, Ulquiorra began to set the stage.

 **:::**

They were nearing the end of the third act, just one more duet for Cirruci and Dordoni. Orihime hastily shoved bobby pins into her hair, having changed out of her chorus costume and into her ballet dress, and hurried into the wings. On her way out to the stage, the leading lady herself passed Orihime, taking her usual swig of 'medicinal' sherry before shoving the flask to the nearest stage hand.

The two set themselves on their marks, just as the lights came up, and it was probably just in Orihime's imagination, but Cirruci seemed to stagger a bit as she walked.

 _"Il se fait tard... adieu!"_ Cirruci sang, and no, she was definitely swaying on the spot.

 _"_ _Quoi, je t'implore en vain,  
_

 _Attends, laisse ma main s'oublier dans la tienne!"_ Dordonni bellowed out, grabbing Cirruci by the arms as per the stage instructions. This also let him get a better look at her face than Orihime could from where she was standing, and he didn't seem to like what he saw.

" _Laisse-moi, laisse-moi contempler ton visage_

 _Sous la pâle clarté_

 _Dont l'astre de la nuit, comme dans un nuage,_

 _Caresse ta beauté!"_

The music played on. And on. Cirruci missed her cue to start singing again, Orihime exchanged worried glances with the other dancers, Cirruci never missed her cues. Off to the side, the stage hand sniffed at the flask Cirruci had handed him, and wrinkled his nose at the unidentified smell that was definitely not sherry.

 _"O silence! ô bonheur! ineffable mystère!"_ Cirruci began to sing again, and in the orchestra pit Starkk scrambled to try and realign the music with her voice. Sadly it was very noticeable by the audience. In box five, Ichigo leaned forward, his eyebrows bunched together in confusion and concern.

 _"Enivrante langueur!_  
 _J'écoute ! Et je comprends cette voix solitaire_  
 _Qui chante dans mon cœur!"_ Cirruci gainned enough of her senses back to know that this was the part of the scene where she had to to 'break away' from Dordoni, she 'struggled' against him as she sang, and at the right moment he let her go, just as practiced, but instead of backing away to lower to the ground, Cirruci gave one more shove than she needed to, and she went sailing backwards, landing against the floorboards with a dramatic _thump!_

A few patrons of the arts apparently found this funny. Chuckles reverberated around the space, making everyone backstage sweat in a way that had nothing to do with the heat from the lights.

The music from the orchestra continued, waiting for Cirruci to finish her section of the duet. But she never made another sound, she didn't even rouse at all when Dordoni cut ahead to his section, singing louder than he needed to and staring at her pointedly. Everyone held their breaths collectively, waiting for the Prima Donna to do something, unfortunately what happened next was Dordoni collapsing to his knees at her side, a panicked look on his face.

"Cirruci? Cirruci?" He repeated, picking her up off the floor and shaking her gently, "Come on Querida, open your eyes."

Confused chatter filled the auditorium, the audience now thoroughly lost, all they knew is that the actors were strugling... and not in a fun way.

And that's when a voice came from above.

"Did I not leave instructions for box five to remain closed?" It asked.

Every set of eyes turned upwards to the painted clouds on the ceiling, or rather, the cloaked figure who stood amongst them. Just a single disappointed voice, but it echoed around the theater with a boom. In fact everyone was so enraptured by the sight, that nobody heard Orihime whisper to herself, "It's him."

"You did this!" Screamed Dordoni, jostling Cirruci in Ulquiorra's direction. "Is this some kind of trick?!"

He was two far away for anyone to get a clear look at him, definitely to far away for anyone to notice the shift in his cloak, as the hand under it gave a deft tug on the piano wire attached to the rope holding the chandelier, specifically the spot where he'd been sawing away at it for the whole show. One sharp tug, every strand unwound, and five hundred pounds of crystals and gold coloured fixtures fell to earth.

Las Noches was filled with screaming once again, actors on the stage dived for shelter in the wings, the audience members close to the stage were in the direct path of the chandelier, trampled each other in an attempt to get out of their seats, those who were seated in boxes or on the balcony either clutched onto each other as if they weren't in the safest place, or stared on in horror at the chaos beneath them. In the orchestra pit Coyote Starkk grabbed his daughter by the back of her shirt and threw her into the aisle closest to the wall, resulting in a bruised back but a saved life, her shrieks joined in with the symphony of others that were drowned out by the sound of the chandelier smashing into the front of the stage.

 **:::**

When Aizen had proposed to Urahara that they lower the price of floor seats for 'Faust', the blonde had been a bit skeptical, but his partner assured him that it would result in better publicity in the long run.

So, by some freak coincidence, every member of the public who had been in the direct path to get hurt that night had been a civilian off the streets, while the usual high class patrons that Las Noches was used to, were in the perfect spot to view everything.

The next morning, it was all anybody could talk about, the name Las Noches was on the lips of every person who had walked away from that performance unscathed, spreading it to their friends, who then spread it on to others. Every newspaper ran front page articles, black ink on white paper screamed about the 'mystery' and 'conspiracy', further fanning the flames.

Urahara stared blankly at all the papers on his desk, they hadn't even picked what their new opera would be and the box office had already been flooded with pre-bookings. Leaning back in his office chair, Urahara rubbed his face tiredly and tried desperately not to think back to the night in question, how in the midst of the panic he'd glanced at his partner and seen what could only be described as an amused glint in his dark eyes. He tried not to think about that look, about Aizen's earlier comments about publicity, and about how it a ended up coming true. He tried not to think about how it was almost like Aizen planned such a disaster.

 **:::**

The police were back at Las Noches, and it seemed to be both a needed presence and a pointless endeavor. No officer or detective in their right mind was going to report back to Byakuya Kuchiki and tell him that an opera ghost was the culprit. But it was all anyone was going to tell them. Rukia sighed at the sight beneath her, pushing the hair that the wind had blown into her face out of her eyes. She stood on the roof of Las Noches, the rooftop area wasn't open to the public, and the staff weren't technically allowed to use it either, so of course everyone did. For smoke breaks, late night drinks, and... other things.

Rukia found herself out here alone more often than not, the winter weather was a put off for most people but Rukia had always been fond of the cold. Especially when it snowed, the fluffy white specks whirled in the air around her before settling into a powdery surface on the ground. There was a mass exodus of Las Noches' residence going on beneath her feet, nearly everyone who was able to find residence elsewhere was packing their bags and vacating the place that had been both their home and their community for years. No one was leaving their jobs, but there was a noticeable distancing between what Las Noches once was and what it was becoming. She'd passed Grimmjow on the way up, he'd been leaning against the door frame to the room he now had all to himself, scowling and sneering at everyone that passed him by with a suitcase, he'd made no secret of his opinion of everyone who was choosing to "run away". While she wouldn't be so crass about it, Rukia could kind of understand how he felt, she might have even spoken out about it, you know, if she wasn't one of the people leaving.

"I thought I'd find you out here." A male voice came from doorway.

Rukia twisted her head around to see Ichigo, pulling his coat tight around himself as he walked closer to her.

"Checking in on your family investment?" She joked, trying to lighten the tensity she felt in her chest.

"Checking in on you more like." His face shifting into its usual flippant expression as he came to her side. "What kind of guy doesn't worry about his girlfriend when she apparently lives in haunted house?"

Rukia inwardly winced at what he was referring to, but refused to let the morose subject broach their meeting. "Well then you have nothing to worry about," she told him, "Brother made it very clear that if I wanted to keep working here I had to at least move back home full time."

Ichigo snorted, "Well that's not the only reason I came by."

She sidled closer and patted at him with the back of her hand, "Oh? Nel's sticking around, you checking in on her too?"

Ichigo shrugged by way of a reaction, "I told her that there's a room at my house if she wants it, but she's sure she can take care of herself."

Rukia chuckled, "Soi Fon's staying too, I heard Yoruichi telling her she could stay with her and Urahara for a while."

Ichigo blanched, "That would not end well for him."

Rukia's lips curled into a smile at the sight of Ichigo lightening up, he'd been at the opera that night with his father and sisters, when she'd eventually found him in the aftermath he'd been holding a crying Yuzu. He'd always had a protectors streak in him when it came to his loved ones, especially in regards to things he couldn't protect them from.

"Orihime's staying behind too." He said blankly, making Rukia look up at him in surprise.

"She told you?"

"I'm sure she would if I knew where she was, I was going to tell her the same thing I told Nel, but no one seems to know where she is."

Rukia hummed in agreement, she hadn't noticed it until recently but Orihime had been making a habit of disappearing for hours at a time, only to turn up later and doge the question of where she'd been.

"Even if I bought her a penthouse suit, I don't think Orihime would leave this place." Ichigo continued.

The two of them had been standing side by side, looking out at the city, but now Rukia turned to look only at Ichigo.

"Even with everything that's going on," He continued, "this place... it's her home, her _only_ home, and it's the last connection she has to Sora." A shadow fell over Ichigo's eyes and his face fell to the ground.

Rukia grabbed both of his hands, threading her fingers through his, she pulled his down to look into her eyes. She held him like that for a while, making sure he saw her, felt the squeeze of her hands through his gloves.

"We're all still here," she told him, voice sure and steady, "we're fine, you don't have to worry."

Ichigo let out a puff of warm breath into the space between them, leaning forward until his forehead came to rest against hers. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a sigh.

"This is not how I imagined doing this." He said, much to Rukia's confusion.

"I mean, thought about this a _lot._ The how, the when, I made plans Rukia, multiple actual plans. And I only had help with two of them!"

"Ichigo-"

"But then nature oh so kindly points out to me, that you can make all the plans you want, and some maniac in a mask could still drop a chandelier on the love of your life. So I guess now's a good time as any."

Rukia tried to speak up again but Ichigo just clasped both her hands into his and held them up close to his chest.

"I'm not the most perceptive I know, and I'll admit that it took me longer than I'm proud of to realise that I love you. You remember the beginning? I told you that you changed my world? I meant that I love you, I told you that you made the rain stop? I meant that I love you, hell, I spent those years at school just thinking about the next time I'd get to see you again, and you still realized how I felt before I did."

"If you're trying to tell me I'm smarter than you, I already knew that." Rukia threw the jab without any real weight behind it, just wanting to get a word in edge wise. But it made Ichigo smile.

"Yeah." Ichigo swallowed, giving Rukia's hands one more squeeze before he sank down onto one knee.

Rukia's eyes widened, and her breath caught in her throat.

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Say you need me with you, here beside you, anywhere you go, let me go to." Ichigo pulled one hand away and reached into his pocket, "Rukia, that's all I ask of you."

Ichigo pulled a band of white gold with a diamond set in the middle. "Rukia Kuchiki-"

"Yes." Rukia answered right away.

"Will you-"

"Yes."

"Will you marry me?" Ichigo spat out as quickly as he could, determined to do this right. And then he found himself falling backwards as the deceptively small body of Rukia Kuchiki tackled him to the ground. The layer of snow on the ground broke his fall, he still planned on complaining about it, but then Rukia was covering his mouth with hers, kissing him hotly.

"Is that a yes?" He panted out when they finally pulled apart.

"Yes you fool!" Rukia could try to sound annoyed with him all she wanted, but there was no disguising the massive smile on her face.

The two of them broke down into laughs and smiles after that, taking turns peppering each other with chaste kisses. Eventually when they got back to their feet they moved back to the door slowly, planning what they would do next, Ichigo wanted to tell his family first, that way while his father was officially adopting her as his third daughter, he could deal with how Byakuya would almost certainly challenge him to a duel.

Neither of them paid attention to the vent in the corner of the roof, why would they? It's not like it connected through various other pipes, to a series of underground tunnels, carrying the sound of their words and confessions to a solitary figure who was always listening, and had just found the words to finish his finale.


	10. Masquerade

**I do not own Bleach or Phantom of the Opera.**

 **Hello again everyone! You all probably thought I was dead, but I'm not! (I'm just being run off my feet at work).**

 **Thanks to 1piecegirl, Aliceinwonderland0506, Hellsing's Reaper, LeeHimeChan, Lonelyphantom021, Lucifer's remnants, MegaSPSolarFlare, RedAmberLady95, Taiski, TanukiBloodWolf, Unique12, WhiteDragonAshley10, golden-eyedwolf842, otakumeera, ulquihime7980 for favoriting.**

 **Thanks to 1piecegirl, 3vuep, , Aliceinwonderland0506, Anemone Iris Sidera, Edansnow, Hellsing's reaper, Krystalana, LeeHimeChan, Lonelyphantom021, MegaSPSolarFlare, , OwlStorm17, RageGoat, Random45Person, TheAvatarRoku, Unique12, WhiteDragonAshley10, eve9613, golden-eyedwolf842, lady madland, otakumeera, rojy, thereciev3r, ulquihime7980 for following.**

 **Special thanks to 3vuep, Mokushiroku115 and guest for their reviews on the last chapter.**

 **And of course there's my absolutely fabulous Beta reader Shi-Daisy.**

* * *

It had been three days in Las Noches without incident, yes they were keeping count now. The theater had been closed to the public for repairs, with no plans to start up shows again for another week at the soonest. Most of the residents had taken this opportunity to move out of Las Noches, but for now they were all sitting in the dinning hall, every familiar face Orihime had grown up with, gathered together like usual, for a farewell dinner.

Everyone broke bread, poured each other wine, and joked together like it was the end of an era. Which, Orihime supposed, it was.

Pushing the food around on her plate, Orihime did her best to keep the smile on her face while not looking anyone directly in the eye. Orihime had always had the reputation for being an optimistic girl, but in truth she'd always felt very in tune to the moods of those around her, even though everyone around her was acting like everything was normal, she could feel the underlying melancholy in the air, but what could she do? That question haunted her sometimes, so did all she could think of, put on a happy face and try to spread a little positivity.

There was the sound of cutlery tapping against glass at the head of the room, and everyone looked up to see that Urahara had joined them in the dining hall, standing at his side were Ichigo and Rukia, the blonde man had his fan snapped closed, so there was no disguise for the devilish smile on his face.

"You're attention if you please!" Urahara called out, waiting for everyone to drop their cutlery and give their undivided attention, "First I would like to thank all of you who are leaving your accommodations here for joining us for one last family dinner. It also makes this announcement a little bit easier..."

At the man's side Ichigo groaned and rolled his eyes.

"And I am pleased to announce that our patron, Mr. Kurosaki, and our very own Rukia Kuchiki, have just informed me of their engagement!"

You could have heard a pin drop in the ensuing silence, everyone stared at the couple in disbelief, Ichigo stubbornly looked away from the eyes that were fixed on him, while Rukia grinned widely, holding up her left hand to the crowd, and even the people at the other end of the room could see the glint coming off the diamond wrapped around her finger.

There was a sudden surge of movement as the entire dance troupe were suddenly swarming Rukia, grabbing her left hand and probing her with congratulatory questions, Ishida came up and offered Ichigo a pat on the shoulder and a sincere congratulations, luckily he was able to get this out before Nel tackled him to the ground in a hug, huge crocodile tears of joy rolling down her cheeks and snot out of her nose, "I'm soooo haaappyy fer yooouu." she wailed. Grimmjow, who had been sitting near Nel made no move to approach either of them, simply glaring at Ichigo before scoffing at returning his attention to his food.

Urahara let out a good natured laugh before returning the attention of the room back to him, "And to celebrate this joyous occasion, we will be throwing a little party this Sunday evening!"

"Little?" Rukia pipped up in a disappointed voice.

The rest of the evening dissolved into toasts and laughter. Orihime waited until the crowd around the happy couple dissolved a little before approaching, she then threw her arms around two of the dearest people in her life and told them that she wished them luck and love in their life together, and she meant it with all her heart.

 **::::**

The 'little party' Urahara had promised turned out to be a masquerade ball that decorated the entire foyer of Las Noches, the normally regal white interior was bathed in gold and lights. In the few days before the night in question, every girl in Las Noches bar those who could afford to buy a new dress for the occasion (i.e. Rukia and Yoruichi), had bombarded Uryuu with requests for personalized, resplendent gowns, he took every request, he made every dress perfectly. THe morning of the ball, Nemu found him passed out on the floor of his studio from lack of sleep.

Rukia had offered to buy Orihime a new dress, the two girl had gone to Riruka's dress parlor in the city center to get Rukia measured for the costumes that Byakuya had special ordered. Orihime had been tempted, there was a gorgeous pink dress with a bell shaped skirt dotted with roses, and a line of yellow ruffle lining the neck, she could imagine spinning around the dance floor like a princess in it, but she'd politely declined. She already had her heart set on something.

While everyone else had been flocking to Uryuu, Orihime had followed all the men in Las Noches to the wardrobe department. They had grabbed formal looking suits that they'd worn in previous productions, opting for familiarity and comfort, not really caring about getting 'into the spirit' of the event. Orihime had rummaged through the racks of Cirruci's old dresses, one after the other, after the other, after the other, until finally...

It looked exactly the same as the day Uryuu had displayed it to her, he had explained where he would be trimming fabric, letting out that and taking in this, but she hadn't heard a word of it, she'd been staring at the dress that represented her big moment in the spotlight. It was still absolutely beautiful, the white bodice with silver stitching and the miles of blue skirt. After Aizen had welcomed Cirruci back to the Prima Donna role, Orihime thought that it would be her last chance to ever wear something like this again, definitely the last chance to wear this again. But a masquerade was a time to shed your true identity and dawn a different guise, so if Orihime were to put on the mask of a leading lady for just one more night, surely no one would even notice.

 **::::**

The night was alive and thriving, the exterios of Las Noches was strung with lights and colourful banners, from the roof, Ichigo's cousins Kukaku and Ganju set off fireworks that attracted the attention of the entire city.

There was a rotating system of carriages at the bottom of the steps leading up to the main door, it was from there that Kisuke Urahara emerged from his carriage, dressed in the guise of 'the red death', a red suit, cape and hat, with black leather boots, a black plummage attached to his hat, and a black skull mask that covered the top half off his face. After stepping out of the carriage, he held his hand out for Yoruichi who followed him into the open, wearing a form fitting purple and black dress, her hair was done up in a lose but beautiful bun, and she wore a purple and white cat mask around her eyes.

"Kisuke!" A voice called out to him, and the blonde manager looked up to see Aizen a little ways up the steps, dressed like an old time count or general, pressed white trousers and gloves, a black cape with red and gold design on the inside, his red jacket was decorated with tassels and medals, and fake (he hoped it was fake) saber at his hip, Aizen had his arm held out like a crook, and holding onto his arm was his wife Anna Marie, she was dressed as a flamenco dancer, a white dress covered in red polka dots and layered with red ruffles, and a single red rose adorning her dark hair.

The couple waved Urahara and Yoruichi to catch up with them. The two couples meet halfway up the stairs where they all exchanged greetings.

"You look amazing." Yoruichi told Anna, lenaing around Aizen to talk to her.

"As do you Senorita," the other woman smiled, "I have to congratulate you all on this party, such a splendid night."

"Hopefully we can consider it a preview to a bright new dawn, one where Las Noches will be the toast of the city." Urahara announced, not missing the subtle flash of derisiveness in Aizen's eyes.

The group of four reached the top of the stairs, where waiters were standing by the doormen with trays of champagne flutes, they each took one.

Aizen raised his glass in a toast, "To us." Turning his head to give his wife a quick kiss before taking sip.

"To the toast of the city." Urahara added, staring at Aizen with just a little hardness in his eyes.

Aizen noticed of course, and he responded with a genuine chuckle, "Such a pity that the phantom couldn't join us don't you think?" He asked rhetorically, before leading his wife indoors.

Urahara would have stood there and watched the other man walk away, but Yoruichi pulled him along, the door men pushed open the main entrance, and the four entered the Masquerade.

It was everything childhood fairy tales are made of, the lobby had been transformed into an opulent ball room, the gas lights had been given special covers so that the whole space seemed to glow gold. The place was filled with people who were not people, every guest had taken the chance transform themselves into jesters, princesses, satyrs, pirates, leering eyes, ace of spades. Every colour imaginable swirled around each other on the dance floor.

Off to the sides of the room, Isshin and Ryuken stood with their own champagne glasses, remembering the old days, Rangiku was taking a break from her many dance partners to sit with Yuzu and gawk at all the beautiful costumes, while Karin and Toshiro stood at the buffet table, resolutely not caring about dancing.

Ishida was swarmed with thank you's from every woman he'd made a dress for, he was dressed in a simple formal suit, the only exception being a pink rose pinned through his lapel, a similar pink to the roses Nemu had attached to the long braid running down her shoulder, her dress was another of his creations, layers of light pink and violet, a design inspired by the sugar plum fairy. She helped him stay upright and avoid his father throughout the evening.

Nelliel was a storm of teal and sea foam green, she swirled around the dance floor going from partner to partner without break, she had a small eye mask on a stick that she waved around like a wand in those moments she was dancing by herself. She even managed to get Grimmjow onto the dance floor, he had been sitting on the grand stair case with his usual group, all taking swigs from the bottle he'd stolen from one of the caterers, he hadn't made much effort, black trousers with a white shirt, sleeves rolled up and an unbuttoned waist coat with gold trimmings. In that moment where his hand was hovering in the air after he'd handed the bottle on, Nel had snatched him by the wrist and dragged him onto the floor, much to his colourful protests.

Harribel stood like a statue, in her usual high necked dress, but with ornaments in her hair and a more decorative cane, she stood protectively by Lillynette, who had made no attempt to dress up, aside from the viking helmet. The green hired girl had been absent from Las Noches since the incident, spending all he time watching over her father in the hospital, Harribel had 'insisted' Lillynette attend the party, saying it would be good for the girl, and that her father would agree were he conscious.

Byakuya was the picture of dignity as always, in a blue and white suit with a golden eye mask and matching walking stick. He'd been standing against the wall making polite conversation with other guests, until Yoruichi ambushed him, pushing him and Soi Fon together in a surprise attack.

The ballerina had her dark hair in her usual braids, but for the special occasion she had tied golden loops onto the ends, she was dressed in a bright yellow and black dress, the front of it's skirt only came down to her knees and then swooped out around her back, with gauntlet like bracelets on her wrists.

The two proud individuals did their best not to squawk as their shared mentor pushed them together and then out onto the dance floor, both agreed that they weren't all to fond of the social event, but participating in at least one dance would only be proper. The fact that they considered each other to be of more agreeable company than most others went unsaid.

The couple of the hour, Ichigo and Rukia were making their rounds around the room, receiving congratulations on their engagement from all the guests that had come from outside Las Noches, once they found a break in well wishers, they made a break for a hiding spot behind a column.

"I didn't realise so many people cared about us getting married." Ichigo sighed, leaning his back against the wall, he was dressed almost like a vampire, with a dramatic black cape over a blood red waist coat, he had lost his white skull face mask somewhere in the crowd (it was hard to talk with that thing on).

Rukia chuckled, just as tired, "They mean well, and they are our friends." Her dress was layers of black and purple, with matching coloured flowers in her hair, and purple wrist gloves.

"More like they're friends of friends of friends of our families. Or their press." Ichigo added that last part as he spotted Shuhei Hisagi and Kira Izuru moving throughout the crowd.

Rukia laughed again, admiring the diamond on her finger, "If this is tiring you out, just imagine what the wedding will be like."

Ichigo bumped the back of his head against the marble with a groan, "Can't we just elope to the mountains? I'll pack my sisters into a suitcase, you can leave a note for your brother. It'll be romantic... and very laid back."

Rukia leaned forward, resting her chin on his chest and looking up at her fiancee, "Having second thoughts?"

He looked back down at her indigo eyes, a smile naturally coming to his face, "About you? Never."

The two clasped their hands together, "So, what's the battle plan?" Ichigo asked.

Rukia pulled him away from the pillar and turned him back towards the crowd, "Divide, and conquer." She answered.

They pecked each other on the lips quickly before rejoining the fray.

On the other side of the room, Orihime was having the night of her life. Tatsuki and Chad, two friends she hadn't seen in ages had come out for the night, the three of them were taking turns, dancing with each other and feasting at the buffet table.

"So you really think your school will be opened soon?" Orihime asked excitedly.

"Well as I pointed out in my _many_ letters, it's not technically illegal for a woman to open her own self-defence class." Tatsuki explained, "So, provided I can show them a good amount of my... charm and reason, it shouldn't be long before you see me cutting the grand opening ribbon." The dark haired woman flashed Orihime a grin.

Orihime let out an airy laugh, "And you're really going to be helping her run it Chad?"

As usual the tall man wasn't one for words, but before a pause could even appear, Tatsuki whacked the back of her hand against his thick chest, "He says he's going to help, but between you and me, he's just going to be there to carry my stuff."

The three of them laughed together, in the way they only had when they were young. Orihime felt herself getting lightheaded with happiness, through the shifting sea of people, she spied Ichigo and Rukia standing back to back as they talked to very rich looking people. There was a time when such a sight might have broken her heart a little bit, but there were things in Orihime's life and heart that had replaced the childish crush she'd harbored for Ichigo all those years ago. And there was simply no denying how much those two loved and needed each other.

"So, when can we expect to see you in the spotlight again? I want to be sure to be there at your next performance." Tatsuki demanded.

Orihime's smile faltered briefly. "Um, well... the thing is-" Her stuttering excuse was interrupted when the lights suddenly went out, the orchestra came to a screeching halt. There was a brief flare of panicked shouts, followed by anxious chattering, the recognizable voices of Urahara and Yoruichi called for everyone to remain calm.

The lights came back to life slowly and slightly, lending a thematic ambiance to the room, it was just enough light that Orihime could make out the silhouettes of the mass around her, and some of the features of the people close by. Her eyes flew around the space, trying to spot... she didn't know what, but she felt some kind of pull, like there was somewhere she was meant to be looking, and soon enough her eyes landed on the top of the staircase, and she realized what had been pulling at her.

Gasps filled the air, as every member of the Las Noches company spotted the lone figure standing at the top of the staircase, a ghostly figure in white, illuminated by the best of the poor lighting, his hands in his pockets, a sword at his hip, and a thick leather parcel under one arm. The air was tense like a piano wire. For Orihime, she couldn't hear any of the gasps, she couldn't see the confusion on Tatsuki's face, she couldn't feel anything but the tightness in her chest. She'd seen him face to face, she'd been in his home, she'd been in his arms, felt his hands on her. But it had always been just the two of them before, now he was standing here, the center of attention of an entire room of people, and almost all of them knew who he was.

 **::::**

He took a single step downwards, each person who'd already had an experience with the phantom took a collective step back. Orihime couldn't see his face clearly, both because of the lights and the new mask he was wearing, that covered the entire right side of his head, with a horn running along the side.

"Why so quiet, my good audience?" He asked, his voice filling the entire lobby. "Did you think that I had left you?"

He continued slowly down the steps, everyone who could have been in his way pressed themselves against the nearest wall in an instinctual sense of fear. His green eyes surveyed all the staring faces looking up at him, fish eyed disbelief, he wasn't quite sure what to expect from his grand reveal, but Ulquiorra supposed this was fitting. He found Aizen standing at the bottom of the stairs, he stood perfectly still, his face it's usual mask of composure, but Ulquiorra could sense a flash of fury resonating within the man, this was not a course of action he had approved of.

But then he spotted Orihime off to the side, wearing the same look of wide eyed innocence as the first day he'd spoken to her. And she was wearing the same dress as the first night he'd revealed himself to her. How fitting.

"No need to look so scared." He said to no one in particular, he removed one hand from his pocket and held up the finished score, "I have written you an opera." He announced, throwing the leather bound pages to the managers standing at the base of the stairs, the string holding it together came undone with the force of its landing, dramatically revealing the title page,

 _DON JUAN TRIUMPHANT_

"You know, by this point, what happens when you disobey my orders, so surely this will be your next production." Ulquiorra continued his way down the stairs, holding the attention of the entire room in his pocketed hands.

"I will allow you to manage its production on your own, with the exception of a few specific instructions." Emerald eyes slid over to Dordoni and Cirruci, who were clutching at each other near the banister, "Dordoni Alessandro does not posses the necessary characteristics to play Don Juan," turning his back on the two hacks he looked out into the crowd, "so I will allow the role of leading man to be given to Grimmjow Jagerjaquez. Provided that he can learn to contain himself."

The blue haired man in question let out an animalistic grunt, but a firm hand on his arm kept him from moving forward.

"Any outside interference will not be permitted," the phantom directed at Byakuya, his eyes then turned to the orange haired man in the middle of the crowd, his eyes somehow turning colder, "my theater's benefactors should learn from the managers, that his place is not in Las Noches."

The dark eyes drilled into Ichigo Kurosaki, all the murderous intent behind them was staggering. The phantom of the opera then turned away from him like it was nothing. Ichigo took the opportunity to move through the crowd towards Byakuya.

"As for our star..."

 **::::**

Those green eyes that had thrilled and haunted her in equal parts, finally landed on Orihime. And the breath that she hadn't realised she'd been holding hitched in her throat. He moved further down the steps, his gaze never wavering from hers, her body that had already been tight with some emotion she couldn't put a name to began to feel like it might implode.

"Miss Orihime Inoue." He said her name like it was something special, the singer was vaguely aware of other people around her, but they had become noise in the background.

"No doubt she'll do her best. It's true that her voice is excellent. But she still has much to learn," He was speaking to her, even if indirectly. "And should she wish to excel, should she wish to _succeed,_ she will have to return to her teacher."

He was still a few steps above her, and at some point without her realising, Orihime had walked to the bottom of the steps. So close yet so far.

Ulquiorra withdrew one hand from his pocket, raised his arm, and held his hand out to her. In that moment the world was narrowed down to just the two of them, Orihime felt like even if she had been left blind and deaf she would still be able to sense his presence. Her body reacted without hesitation or thought, lifting her own hand up to take his.

His own pale fingers stretched out just the tiniest bit in anticipation. And then the real world came between them again.

A strong arm wrapped around Orihime's waist from behind, yanking her off her feet and pulling her away from Ulquiorra. She was so shocked that the best reaction she could make was a choking sound tumbling from her gaping mouth. Ulquiorra's eyes flashed with anger, focused on the man pulling her away. But before he could react in anyway to that, Byakuya lunged at Ulquiorra from the side, brandishing his cane like a cudgel. But faster than anyone in that room thought it was possible for a human to move, Ulquiorra pulled his sword from it's scabbard and parried each one of the police chief's blows.

"No!" Orihime screamed out, as she began to struggle against the arm holding her, but another arm just held her more tightly in place. Orihime twisted around in the grasp, expecting to find Chad, but instead she was looking up at Ichigo, he wasn't looking down a her, but there was a hard look on his face that made her grateful of that.

Byakuya and Ulquiorra continued their bout upon the landing of the staircase, until Ulquiorra was finally able to knock Byakuya backwards, just enough for him to drive his sword into the ground. Their was a sudden explosion of light from all the lamps in the room, everyone gave a shriek of surprise and ducked their heads. And when they looked back, the Phantom of the opera was gone.

People were shouting, the room became alive with fear and tension. Ichigo released Orihime and left her in the care of Chad and Tatsuki, while he left to go join up with Byakuya and the rest of the police. Orihime heard Tatsuki's voice, felt her friends hands trying to pull her this way and that. But she just kept staring at that spot where Ulquiorra had been. He had appeared and disappeared just like that, dozens of times, coming to her and leaving without a trace. But this was the first time his doing so had left such destruction in his wake.

Or, maybe... was this just the first time she'd noticed his destruction?

* * *

 **Author's note: If any of you are curious about the character of Anna Marie, you can learn more about what's up with her in Shi-Daisy's fic 'Road to Redemption' and 'Road to Ruin'. They're really good reads.**


	11. Turning Tables and Tides

**I do not own Bleach or Phantom of the Opera.**

 **Special thanks to RoaringGoat, Savi, and ayudevieta90 for their reviews on the last chapter.**

 **I went back and forth over so many things when writing this chapter, so I can't thank Shi-Daisy enough.**

* * *

Ulquiorra's face was a mask in more than one sense, his expression gave nothing away of the pain from where the police chief had struck him.

That hadn't gone as planned. Had he over estimated his own presence? Sure enough when he'd first appeared, all before him had been paralyzed, he'd taken note of a few of them, the police that had been crawling around his theater the past few days, the Kurosaki insects that had dubbed themselves 'patrons' and called that an excuse to play director.

But that performance had been for two people, it had been for Aizen, a small display- or rather a reminder, that being at home in the shadows didn't make Ulquiorra any less powerful, or easier to control. And of course, as was the case with everything he did, it had been for Orihime.

Logically he had known for a long time that it would have to be like this, in order to get his opera performed he would have to step out of the darkness (albeit briefly), and offer his work down to his so called managers. But for the Kuchiki to lash out and attack him like that...

He supposed none of that mattered now, all that mattered was what came next.

Ulquiorra used one of his tunnels that lead directly to his quarters, he had many of them running through out Las Noches, some he even labeled as 'for emergencies', so he really shouldn't have been that surprised when he found that Aizen had beaten him back there.

The man was still in his masquerade clothes, he stance gave nothing away of his mood, it was almost just like the last time, but wjen he turned to face Ulquiorra, he could see the displeasure in the other mans eyes. Aizen didn't say anything, in fact he took a seat, as if this were his domain, and looked at Ulquiorra expectantly, awaiting explanation.

Ulquiorra took a moment to compose himself, straightening his back and stuffing his hands in his pockets, meeting Aizen's brown eyes with his mismatched ones. "Despite what I'm sure you may think, the actions I took tonight were not born of spontaneity. I have been crafting Don Juan Triumphant for years, and I have been planning how to ensure it would be preformed at Las Noches for just as much time, perhaps I had not intended for it to be so... dramatic originally, but recent circumstances forced me to change that."

All the while Ulquiorra talked, Aizen didn't move a muscle, his expression didn't shift in the slightest, the man barely blinked. But after a few beats of silence, Aizen leaned his cheek against his fist and gave Ulquiorra a bored look.

"Perhaps if I explained something to you better, you will understand." The manager began, "I don't care about music, I don't care about arts and the theater, I don't care about this opera house, and I don't care about any of the people in it."

It wasn't the words themselves that shocked Ulquiorra, but rather the sensation that this was the most honest Aizen had ever been in his life.

Aizen continued. "The reason I became manager is, to be frank, Kisuke and I are playing something of a chess game, it's taken on many forms over the years, and Las Noches just happens to be the newest chess board. I approached you because I planned to utilize you as a piece, and admittedly because watching those sheep clutch at their chests in fear while at the same time hurrying towards you offered me some mild amusement. But after tonight I feel that you are in need of a reminder of the assigned roles in this little game we're all involved in."

His eyes turned hard and cold.

"You work for me." He said, leaving no room for argument. "I say you are involved in the game because _I_ am the one playing, the moment I stepped into this hole you live in, your only purpose became to follow the orders I give you, and ensure that you not lose your usefulness to me. You can skulk around the wings and peep on chorus girls all you want, but you will not make a sound unless I move you to do so,"

Aizen raised himself from his seat, looking down on Ulquiorra in every sense of the word. "Is that clear?"

Ulquiorra exercised his ability to be expressionless to the best of his abilities. But it had never felt this hard before. "You speak to me like a man who has nothing to fear, nothing to lose." He answered ambiguously, there was a flicker of something deep in Aizen's eyes, "But we both know that's not true don't we." Ulquiorra added, referencing the flamenco dancer that had been at Aizen's side during the masquerade.

Aizen caught his meaning, and in a movement so swift, Ulquiorra barely registered it, he ripped the saber from his side, scabbard and all, and thrashed Ulquiorra in the side of the face so hard it sent him stumbling into the far side of the room. Ulquiorra managed to garb onto the wall and steady himself before he hit the floor, his mask lay in smashed pieces on the ground. In a moment of blind panic, Ulquiorra let go of the wall and slapped both of his hands to his ducked face, his still unsteady balance caused his knees to buckle and he wound up kneeling at Aizen's feet once the man approached him again.

"And you speak," Aizen replied, unsheathing his blade, "like your ability to interfere with the lives of others doesn't end at the steps to the entrance. You've been at this phantom act so long that you have forgotten that in truth you are little more than a rat scurrying around in the dark. And it's time you learned to recognise a predator. And also,"

Aizen drove the blade into Ulquiorra's leg, just below his knee. The disfigured man clenched his teeth hard to keep from out right screaming.

"If you ever threaten my wife again, there won't be a mask in the world that can hide what I'll do to you."

XXX

Hours later and Orihime was still in her dress, her make up was smudged and she'd pulled at her hair so much that when she finally pulled her hands away there were thin red strands stuck to her fingers. All she could really feel was a sinking feeling in her chest. The police had called a lock down on the building while the initiated a search. After the dormitories had been cleared the staff had been sent back to their rooms so that the party guests could find their own places to sleep. The minute everyone had stopped yelling at the managers and the police, all eyes had turned to Orihime.

"So I take it that was your teacher?" Rukia asked her.

They were back in their old bedroom. Everyone who'd moved out of Las Noches returned to their old quarters out of habit, the two other beds in the room that usually belonged to Nemu and Soi Fon were currently occupied by the sleeping Karin and Yuzu, Nemu was with Ishida in his studio and Soi Fon and Yoruichi had joined the phantom hunt.

Rukia had changed out of her costume, now dressed in her white night gown and robe, she sat formally on her bed, looking at Orihime with careful eyes. Orihime sat in a ball on her bed, her arms wrapped around her knees, and her back pressed against the wall.

Orihime didn't say anything, but she nodded.

"And did you know who he was?"

Orihime swallowed hard, "... only recently."

"And how recently is recently?" Rukia asked, when Orihime didn't answer the dark haired girl prodded further, "Recently as before you left?"

Orihime shook her head.

"Recently as this week?"

Orihime shrunk in on herself.

"Recently as before what happened to Nnoitra?"

Orihime started to shake.

"Oh my god." Rukia gasped, "Did he do anything to you? Don't tell me that monster-"

"Don't call him that!" Orihime screamed, she flinched, looking over to check she hadn't woken up Karin and Yuzu, she hadn't.

Orihime took in a shaky breath, she calmed herself as best she could and crawled onto her knees on the bed, facing Rukia. Rukia had been her friend for as long as she could remember, much like Tatsuki, the dark haired dancer had always pushed for Orihime to be bold where she might have been shy, to not be ashamed of the weird parts of her. but for the first time in her life, Orihime was afraid to tell Rukia something.

"It's not that simple." Orihime whispered, "There's things about him you don't know, I'm not saying he's completely innocent, but he's not entirely the villain in this story."

"Orihime this isn't a story, this is real life. And the things he's done can't be forgiven, and I'm not just talking about what happened to Nnoitra and Cirruci, or with the chandelier-"

"You don't know all that was him." The red head muttered weakly.

"My point is that he's dangerous." Rukia insisted decisively. "You can't over look the things he's done, and I might be being nice here, but everyone else is going to have some questions for you, and I don't just mean my brother."

All the faces she'd passed on her way up the stairs swam through Orihime's mind, making her feel dizzy.

Rukia studied her friends face for a few minutes before sighing. "When we go downstairs tomorrow, you should answer all the police's questions, but other than that just keep quiet."

Orihime nodded her head numbly. She wasn't really paying attention anymore. She heard Rukia sigh again.

"And of course, you should try and stay in a group as often as possible, until that- _he's_ caught, you're clearly not safe alone, based on the way he singled you out."

 _He wouldn't hurt me._ But Orihime didn't say that, she let out a sigh of her own an slid off the bed. "I'm tired." Was the only explanation she gave as she slunk off to the bathroom to change.

Half an hour later and Orihime was still awake, lying in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin, she listened to the sleepy breathing of everyone else in the room. She looked across to where Rukia had her face buried in a pillow. Very slowly, Orihime sat up, flicking her eyes all around the room to make sure no one else was waking up. Quietly she reached under her bed for a pair of slippers, grabbed her coat from one of the pegs nailed to one of the load bearing posts that stuck up through the floor. Thankfully the door had been left open a crack, she pushed it open with her finger tips, just outside the room Ichigo had fallen asleep in his chair, he'd taken up guard duty outside their room and the Saber Byakuya had given him was still in his lap, one had curled around the hilt. She slipped past him, and tip-toed down the stairs.

Almost the entire building was asleep, but she could still here echoing voices from the managers office. She traveled through the building that was her home, that had never felt more alien to her. Eventually made her way out the back door towards the company stables.

"Syazel?" She called out. There was no vocal response but she heard the sound of horses whining, she came around to the stable entrance and saw the carriage ready to depart, a figure, she assumed Syazel, in a coat and hat sat in the drivers seat.

Orihime ran up to the carriage and climbed in. "Take me to the cathedral please."

Syazel crack the reins and the horses pulled them away. Orihime was quick to get lost in her thoughts again, she didn't notice the man carrying her away was the wrong height to be Syazel.

Orihime quickly found herself lost in thought as they moved threw the city, the passing buildings and sound of the horses hooves nothing more than background details. Orihime hadn't been to church in a long time, Sora used to take her to services when they had a free Sunday, and when Sora got sick, and in those first few days after he'd passed, she'd prayed for her brother in the chapel beneath Las Noches everyday. But the everything about Las Noches was now tied up with Ulquiorra, and when her thoughts turned to Ulquiorra things became so... messy.

She needed somewhere quiet and far away to try and collect herself.

It was only when the cathedral came into view that Orihime really started to pay attention to her surroundings again. It was a good thing to, otherwise she would have missed the driver steering the horses past the cathedral and down an alley.

"What? You're going past the Cath-" When she saw the driver wasn't listening to her, Orihime leaned forward and took him by the shoulder. "Sya-ah!"

The breath was stolen from her when she pulled the figure around to look at her and she found herself faced with a familiar mask. Her mouth gaped open and closed, letting lose unintelligible sounds. Ulquiorra was here. The police were looking for him. Ulquiorra was here. The mask he was wearing was different from the one he usually wore. Why was that? What was he doing here?

It was the last point that stuck with her the most. Something about seeing him outside of Las Noches just felt so alien, even if those eyes were so familiar.

"Don't scream." He told her bluntly, "Don't say a word. All I need from you right now is your compliance."

"Compliance?" She echoed confusedly.

"Just sit there. Stay quiet and don't attract attention, until we get there."

"Where?"

"I said don't speak!"

Orihime flinched back into her seat, she'd never heard him shout before, just hearing a spike of identifiable emotion in his voice was rare enough. As her wide eyes scanned what of him was visible, she noticed the vice grip he had on the reins. The sinking feeling in her chest grew worse.

They rode until eventually they arrived at the docks. Ulquiorra tied up the horses and held his hand out to Orihime, even when he was rattled to the core, he still waited for her to take his hand. It was once they were out of the carriage, and he was guiding her through the shadow cloaked area, she noticed the limp in his walk.

As they neared the water, and the smell of salt and the sound of waves overcame her senses, Orihime found herself returning to the day she arrived back in Spain from Japan, she'd stepped off the boat, so happy to be home, she'd had no idea what was coming.

Orihime was pulled out of her recollections, when she felt herself being pushed against a wall of wooden crates. She gasped at the sudden action, it was barely early morning, there weren't even shadows in the dark, and the docks were practically abandoned, but Ulquiorra still tried to cover the both of them with his cloak.

"We need to run away." He said it quickly, as if he felt time nipping at his heels.

"What?" Orihime choked out.

"Not now." He conceded, "We have to wait, until A- until the police loosen their grip on Las Noches, put on Don Juan, just act like everything is normal, and then after opening night we can-"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Orihime begged him, grabbing him by the arms, trying to slow his mind and bring him back to her. What are you talking about? Why would we need to run away?"

He stared down at where her hands touched him, his eyelids slid closed and he took in a shuddering breath. Orihime leaned her head forward until their foreheads knocked together, when his eyes opened in surprise, she made sure to catch his gaze with her own. Orihime did her best to emanate calmness.

After a few moments, he finally swallowed and licked his pale lips, "It's not safe there anymore. Not like it was, things have changed."

"What do you mean?" She prodded him to continue, eyeing him further, taking in the unusual hunch to his posture, the unconscious clenching and unclenching of his hands,the way his usually unflinching eyes put much effort into avoiding hers.

"What happened?" She asked him in a gentle tone.

His mismatched iris's snapped upwards, unmasked shock that she was able to see his vulnerabilities. Normally he put so much energy into concealing such things. He clenched his hands again, so hard that his nails bit into his palm.

"I can't stay here." Was all he was able to articulate, the events with Aizen earlier had set his thoughts racing at a hundred miles an hour, and once he was able to pull himself together again, he had made his plan of escape, without fully thinking it through. "I don't need Las Noches."

If he worked hard enough, he could make a similar set up in any building he was sure. "I don't need to stay, I can work anywhere." It wasn't as if music changed that much with every location.

He finally looked Orihime in the eyes, those wide grey eyes, how many years had he seen her without her seeing him back? Only recently had those beautiful grey's looked right at him instead of the direction of his voice, they had _seen his face_.

And she hadn't flinched away. She'd kissed him, and stayed with him, and let him touch her. All his life, Ulquiorra had been certain that a person like that couldn't possibly exist.

"But I can't leave you." He finally said, barely more than a whisper. "I can't be without you, you're- you're the only thing that-"

The great Phantom of Las Noches, lost for words.

"You're the only thing." He breathed out.

The whole time he'd been speaking, Orihime had been shocked into silence, partly unable to believe what she was hearing, still partly unable to believe what she was seeing. Attempts at even so much as a sound wound themselves into a knot in her throat.

But she was 'saved' from having to answer by a sudden arrival.

"Get away from her!" A familiar voice shouted, as a figure came hurtling towards them.

"Ichigo?!" Orihime gasped, finally finding her voice again.

Ulquiorra made no such acknowledgment, simply jumped backwards as Ichigo came crashing towards him. The ginger made a swipe with his sword that just missed Ulquiorra, the new man on the scene took a stand in front of Orihime, his free arm thrust out, barring her protectively.

"Tired of hanging people from the rafters?" Ichigo spat out at the masked man in front of him, "Thought you'd try your hand at drowning?"

"No..." Orihime was shaking all over, too much was happening at once, she couldn't move, couldn't speak.

Ichigo swung his sword again, moving in for an all out fight. Ulquiorra didn't seem to have a weapon under his cloak, but he doged each one of Ichigo's strikes. Ichigo came close a couple of times, but all he managed was to make a few slices in Ulquiorra's cloak. Ulquiorra began moving purposefully, moving Ichigo in a certain direction. And once he was certain that the Kurosaki was sufficiently blinded by emotion, he let the finally strike get as close to him as possible, before side stepping at the last possible second. The blade lodged itself into the wall of wooden crates he'd lead Ichigo towards, it caused just enough of a delay for the unmasked man, that Ulquiorra was able to make his escape.

After the phantom vanished into the shadows, Ichigo wrenched his sword free with all his strength, and lunged his body forward, ready to go after him, but a pair of arms around his torso and a sudden weight on his back held him in place.

"Please don't!" Orihime cried out.

Orihime was holding onto him as tightly as she could, but he could still easily shake her off if he wanted too. He tried to do so gently, pulling her arms off his sides, but she'd just claw at him again, until he finally had to drop his sword to grab both of her hands. By the time he did this, the sound of hoof beats riding away from the docks could be heard.

Ichigo dropped Orihime's hands and whirled around to face, "What were you doing?" Shot out of his mouth, but any other questions he might have asked, died when he saw the look on his friends face.

Her hair was in her face, the night clothes she was wearing clearly weren't any protection from the sea breeze, and her face quivered, particularly the lines around her eyes and mouth.

She parted her lips, as if to answer him, but all that came out was a broken sound. And that was when she finally broke down into tears.

And for a good while, Ichigo Kurosaki held onto Orihime Inoue while she sobbed, loudly and uncontrollably. Even the sea wasn't enough to drown her out.


	12. Second Intermission

**I do not own Bleach or Phantom of the Opera.**

 **Special thanks to RoaringGoat for their review last chapter, really appreciated the feedback. Needless to say I couldn't have gotten this done without Shi-Daisy.**

 **We're nearing the end folks...**

* * *

Ichigo had held Orihime until her sobs finally subsided, he wanted to call a carriage to bring them home and out of the cold, but Orihime was still shaking, making sounds that he couldn't comprehend with her raw throat.

He found a shack nearby, a little place for sailors on layover between locations. Nothing much, but it was empty and there was a bed inside. He grabbed a passerby, pressing money into their hand and telling them to send a carriage to them. Ichigo lead Orihime inside, wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and lit a candle.

Ichigo glanced over his shoulder at the silent girl who was pulling the blanket tighter around herself, pointedly not looking at him.

Ichigo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "You know... I really want to yell at you right now." He paused, waiting for a reaction, there was none. "I mean," he continued, "sneaking out on your own when the police tell you to stay home is inadvisable, but sneaking out on your own when the guy the police are looking for is known to be stalking you is just, stupid, it's really stupid Orihime-"

Ichigo spun around to face the girl, only to find her already staring at him. Before he could pick up his speech again, Orihime spoke up.

"Did you know that I loved you?" She asked.

Ichigo blanched, "Wh-"

"Not now obviously. When we were younger," she let out a choke of a chuckle, "for so so long, it felt like. I can't even really remember why know, back then I thought you didn't need a reason to love someone, that it was just what you felt. But all that lead me to was pinning away for you from a distance, even when I could see how you looked at me, how it would never be the same way you looked at Rukia."

Orihime looked like she wanted to cry again but didn't have anymore tears left in her. Ichigo knelt down in front of her, not sure if that was the right thing to do, but not wanting to just stand there awkwardly.

"I was jealous of her, my best friend, who'd accepted me and helped me stand on my own, just because you two had such an easy chemistry. Rukia did what she thought was kind, she never said anything either, she could see that I was trying to get over it, and she just... didn't want to embarrass me. For a long time after that I thought that was just my role in life, to be the one to give love out to others, do you know what it's like to feel that way and then to finally have someone tell you that they love you?"

"Orihime you can't think that whatever that guy has done is a sign of love." Ichigo argued.

Orihime just shook her head, the dull look in her eyes was softening as she spoke of the phantom, softening into something gentle and caring.

"We can't judge him, not by the standards that we would judge others. He's been through so much Ichigo."

"So have you! So have I! But we don't kill people!"

"He's suffered more than I have Ichigo, more than you have, more than anyone I've ever met. I'm not trying to excuse what he's done, but try to understand, if everyone, your entire life treated you like you were a monster, like you weren't worthy of love and affection, of any kind. What would that do to your mind?"

"Which is exactly why you can't think you can trust him!" Ichigo shouted, like he was losing patience.

An imitation of a smile formed on Orihime's face, "Actually I think that's one of the reasons we're drawn to each other. It may have been to different degrees but we both spent a long time thinking that no one was ever going to love us the way we wanted to be loved. And maybe that's horrible and selfish of me, wanting him because he loves me the way I want to be loved, but the thing is he wants all the love I have to offer, I can't remember the last time I felt that way with someone. So even if my feelings for him a selfish, maybe that just makes us more suited for each other."

Ichigo stared at Orihime with his mouth agape, struggling for something to say. His mind flashed back to that night he'd seen her on stage for the first time, and he'd felt like she was a different woman from the girl he'd left in summer, that feeling came back to him now, he was almost drowning in it.

There was a knock at the door. The carriage was here. Orihime stood, still a little dazed and emotionally exhausted.

"Let's go home." Was all she said.

As she walked towards the door, without thinking about it, Ichigo reached out his hand and pulled the blanket from around her shoulders.

::::

The four of them assembled in the manager's office, Urahara, Aizen, Byakuya, and Harribel. Spread across the table they all loomed over were blueprints from Las Noches' construction. Only Harribel knew that they forgeries, made to keep outside eyes from the various tunnels and secret rooms that Ulquiorra used.

As the dance mistress looked around at the grim and serious faces that were trying so desperately to bring an end to the long shadow that seemed to have been cast over them. She could understand how they felt, in a way, she too wanted to see all this business come to an end...

But she could still remember the little boy he had been when she'd first found him. When it had been her that hid him away in the first place, watched him grow, learn music, illusion, architecture, economics, languages. She'd been so in awe of his talents that she'd allowed him to create the Phantom in the beginning, thinking it would be the most contact he could have with others. She hadn't discovered the depths of his attachment to Orihime until it was too late.

Yes, I must remember, Harribel thought to herself, even if I understand how they feel. This sweet monster is mine.

"There has to be some way he's getting around," Byakuya grumbled beneath his breath. "I have men posted in every hall and stairway, and there's been no sign of him."

"So either he's a magician, or he has a passage that isn't shown here." Urahara spoke blithely.

Harribel flicked her eyes to each's expression, saying nothing herself. Byakuya was attempting to mask his frustration with his usual mask of calm, Urahara looked at the blueprints like it was a sentence made up of words he knew but couldn't understand. Aizen was the most concerning. He stared, not really at the table, but as if at something that was far away, his face was its usual calm, but the aura around him was what drew Harribel's attention like there was something simmering beneath the surface.

"You've been awfully quiet Ms. Harribel, care to say something?" Urahara asked.

Harribel turned her eyes back to meet his, and though they were shadowed by his hair, the look in them was piercing, he was daring her to say what she knew that they all didn't. But Tier Harribel didn't stoop to taking dares.

"My only concern is the safety of my girls. So far they have remained safe from this catastrophe, I will see to it they remain that way."

"Ah, but not all of your girls have remained entirely unaffected, have they?"

Harribel narrowed her eyes at the blonde man, none of them had seen tonight's events coming, but if he thought he could throw that in her face-

The door to the office swung open, and Ichigo Kurosaki entered like a stormy breeze.

"We're ending this." He said to the room.

"Well obviously were trying Mr. Kurosaki," Urahara was the first to address, suddenly much more friendly, "as you can see we've been working on-"

Ichigo ran his eyes along the blueprints on the table before slamming his hand down and sweeping them off the polished wooden surface.

"What do you-" Byakuya began to chastise him, but Ichigo quickly cut him off, his temper hot.

"We're not going to find him like this, he might live with the rats for all we know but you can't just smoke him out like one."

"Well if you have an alternative suggestion, I would love to hear it." Byakuya shot back, only half sarcastically.

"We need to lure him out, get him when he's exposed."

"You're suggesting we set a trap?" Harribel asked, watching the young man carefully.

Ichigo reached over to Urahara's desk, "After all, he gave us the perfect one."

The ginger thumped the script for Don Juan Triumphant onto the center of the table.

"You're suggesting we play along with his demands?" Byakuya asked affronted.

"What's more you're suggesting it as if you are indeed sure that this will lure him out," Urahara added.

"It will if Orihime sings." Ichigo stated, glaring at the script as if he could set it on fire, "If tonight's shown anything it's that this so-called phantom has one hell of an ego, and some kind of..." he trailed off, struggling to find the right word, "he picked Orihime for the lead in front of everyone, that says something."

"So..." Urahara mused, "put on his masterpiece with his chosen muse, it is unlikely anyone would be able to keep from making a personal appearance for something like that."

"Still," Byakuya argued, ever the lawful, "it is against protocol to play along with the demands of criminals. And-"

"I agree with Mr. Kurosaki's plan," Aizen spoke up, surprising everyone in the room.

His gaze was still fixed on somewhere far away from this room, but he reached out his hand and traced his long fingers along the pages of sheet music. "If he believes that everyone was suitably frightened by his little stunt, thinks that we're all playing along with his orders, he'll think he's powerful enough to raise his face where he's exposed."

Only two people in the room could hear the undertone to the way Aizen spoke, like a blade that was secretly sharp on both sides.

"It's time we brought an end to our clever friend."


	13. Promise me that all you say is true

**I do not own Bleach or Phantom of the Opera.**

 **Thanks to everyone who has favourited and followed since the last chapter. Needless to say I couldn't have gotten this done without Shi-Daisy, who actually wrote part of this chapter so a round of applause for her please!**

* * *

Rehearsals were not going well. No that wasn't fair to say, on a technical level everything was going swimmingly. It was just very obvious that none of the cast wanted to be there.

When it had been announced that they would indeed be putting on Don Juan Triumphant, reactions had been... mixed, ranging from denial to outrage. Most of the outrage came from Grimmjow, Nel and the other actors, while Yoruichi and Soi Fon were very outspoken about their staunch disapproval. But Aizen and Urahara, backed up by Byakuya had made it clear that there was no room for argument, Las Noches would perform the phantom's opera, as for anyone who didn't want to partake, they knew where the door was.

Maybe it was pride in the face of a challenge, maybe it was the fact that theater work was almost impossible to find in a city with just the one opera house, but nobody left. The message was clear in their performances though, 'the show must go on, but that doesn't mean we have to be happy about it'.

All demands made by the phantom were being followed, especially in regards to casting, which is how Orihime found herself standing opposite to Grimmjow in front of the orchestra pit, practicing The Point of No Return.

Now this aspect of rehearsals was not going well on any level.

The story of Don Juan was fairly well known, but this opera had taken a departure from the original text. In this opera Don Juan was a mysterious masked man that rolled into town without warning, rumors begin to circulate that he is so handsome and rich that his disguise is a necessity. In truth, this Don Juan was a man who had grown up and lived in that very town till he left to seek his fortune, although he does return rich and well-supplied, the solo's he sings in private reveal that behind his mask lives a broken and tortured individual, who has turned his back on God and man and now planned to seclude himself from the world. But not before he set his eyes one last time on the only thing he still held dear to him, Orihime's character Don Ana, the woman he had been in love with before 'life had forsaken him'.

Don Ana didn't recognize Don Juan beneath the mask at first, while she was intrigued as every other woman as to his identity, she was a maiden pure, she always held back from his outstretched hand do to her own fears as well as the disapproval of her father (played by Dordoni). In a way the opera was really about the two of them dancing around each other, Don Juan pining from afar and Don Ana slowly awakening to a sense of desire for this familiar stranger. These feelings finally culminated near the end, resulting in The Point of No Return.

Therein lay the problem, this song was supposed to be the ultimate seduction, the burning passions of two people coming to a head as they finally realized just how badly they wanted each other. These were feelings that Grimmjow and Orihime were not able to convince the audience they felt for one and other. On their own they seemed rather suited for the parts, Grimmjow could portray nothing if not raw sex appeal, and he had a kind of predatory growl to the way he sang some of his lyrics that gave the scene a real edge, but there was also an underlying feralness, a kind of anger it seemed like, that ignored the nuance of Don Juan's character. And when Orihime was on the other end of those lines, she felt more like Grimmjow wanted to eat her than take her to bed.

Orihime wasn't doing much better to be fair. for Don Ana this song was an awakening, she had spent the whole play as the traditional maiden, the script even specified that she wear a white dress, she cowed to societal expectations about how women were to act in regards to romance and sex, but in this number, she took control, on a surface level you saw Don Juan seducing Ana, but in truth, it was Ana who was in control, she came to the mansion of her own volition and it was in her power to decide whether the night went any further than Don Juan's seductive words. And Orihime couldn't even imagine being in a situation like that.

She'd never been like Yoruichi, able to talk about sex without blushing. The closest she'd ever come was that night underground with Ulquiorra, when she'd been just a little tipsy and under the impression that it was all a dream, she hadn't shied away from his touches, his proximity, she'd allowed herself to lean in and enjoy it. The morning after she had felt hot with embarrassment, but why? Because she had gotten so close and friendly with someone she didn't know? If that was the case then she could free herself of that shame, Orihime felt she could confidently say she knew Ulquiorra better than anyone else, and he had certainly seen a side of her she hadn't shown to others.

And so once again, the thought came unbidden to her mind, I wish Ulquiorra were here.

The two of them had sang together during her lessons, and now Orihime was singing the score he had written himself, she was starring in the role he had written for her, and she could think of nothing she wanted more than for Ulquiorra to be the one beside her now, for it to be his voice mixing with hers, so that everyone could sit in awe of his talent.

But with a sinking heart, the doubt began to creep in. The doubt that there could ever be more for them than this, a wall dividing them.

XXX

"All right, let's take a break here." Starkk called out from the Orchestra pit.

Everyone let out a collective breath and broke away from their choreographed positions. Orihime immediately made her way off the stage and to her dressing room. She had been gifted Cirruci's old dressing room, partly to go with her new status as leading lady, and partly (mostly) because no one else wanted to share a dressing room with her. Ever since the party everyone had been avoiding direct contact with Orihime if they could help it, their eyes followed her down the hallways, their whispers trailed along in her steps. None of them had actually asked her about her relationship with Ulquiorra, preferring to come up with their own theories. She was grateful to her friends, they were doing their best to try and make her still feel comfortable and protected amongst them, but when she spent her time with them she could feel the air weighted with all the words they were trying not to say.

Once Orihime was inside her dressing room, she leaned her back against the closed door, sliding down to the floor. Orihime didn't like feeling angry, she didn't like having to deal with negativity in herself. But she still couldn't help the way her teeth grit, the way her fingernails dug into her palms when she thought about how Ulquiorra had come to see her again since that night.

 _"But I can't leave you."_

 _"I can't be without you."_

 _"You're the only thing."_

Did he really think he could just say things like that to her and then disappear? Again?

Orihime had always known that their relationship wasn't 'normal'. But it had never been this difficult before. Orihime wasn't the type to lament her life, she preferred to be the one with an open ear whose friends could rely upon to offer solace. But just this once, she wished she could summon Ulquiorra in front of her just so she could scream at him, she wanted to scream, shout, hurl abuse for all the crap she'd had to put up with this past year.

It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair.

"I thought you understood." Orihime whispered, "I thought you understood what it was like to feel this lonely. So why are you leaving me alone now?"

She felt a tightness in her throat, wetness stinging her eyes, but just as her body began to shake with preemptive tears, the door which she had closed but not locked was flung open.

Orihime was sent flying, landing stomach first on the floor.

"Are you in here?" A voice whined from the doorway.

Orihime twisted her head around in recognition and saw Riruka Dokugamine leaning against the door handle. She was dressed in a slim fitted black dress, lined with white fur. She had a bored look on her face and her other arm cradled a dollhouse-sized basket of fabrics.

Before Orihime could utter a word, or get back to her feet, Riruka tilted her head back and let out a groan, "He's not here either. This place is such a maze."

"H-he?" Orihime squeaked out, twisting herself around so that her rear was no longer sticking in the air.

For the first time, Riruka's eyes acknowledged Orihime's presence, and not seeming to care that she had just barged into a private dressing room, she shifted the basket on her hip so that she was holding it with both hands. "I'm trying to find Ishida's studio, he's so determined to make all new costumes for this show that he ran out of fabric, I'm here to save the day."

"Oh," Orihime chuckled, "well Uryuu's studio is up another two floors, last door on the left."

"Thanks." Riruka replied curtly, shifting to leave before she paused her motions, she ran her eyes over Orihime in a scrutinizing manner. "What are you crying about?"

Orihime waved her arms frantically in front of her, "No, no! Everything's fine"

Riruka responded to that with an unimpressed look, for a moment though it looked like she was going to accept that answer, before she let out a loud groan, shut the door behind her and sat herself down on the floor beside Orihime. "Now, I'm not one for gossip."

This was very untrue but Orihime said nothing.

"But if what I've been hearing about the masquerade ball is true... this has probably been an emotional time for you." Riruka chose her words carefully, looking at Orihime out the corner of her eye.

"It is true," Orihime answered bluntly, there was no point in trying to be secretive anymore. "And I just, I wish- I feel... I don't know how I feel."

"Well, you sound upset." Riruka stated, "may-hap you're upset with someone in particular?"

Orihime let out a deep sigh, wrapping her arms around her knees, "I just wish he'd talk to me." She whimpered.

And maybe at the core of the matter, that was all she wanted, because even more than she was upset with Ulquiorra, she missed him. So much. Even if for most of their relationship she'd thought he was 'the angel of music', it didn't erase his importance in her life, it didn't change the comfort his invisible presence had been to her when Sora had been slipping away. She almost laughed when the thought came to her, their relationship was at their least rocky when he was invisible, maybe she should just turn invisible too?

"Maybe he's scared." Orihime almost didn't hear Riruka, the pinkette had spoken so quietly.

When Orihime turned to look at the other girl, she had her head tilted away, to hide her expression. "Sometimes when you've been hurt, by people, when you get hurt again and again, and there isn't one person you can look to for a bit of genuine kindness, it makes it hard to imagine that anyone is safe to turn to, even the ones that have been there for you. It doesn't matter how kind the people you know now are, the idea from your past that you aren't worthy of love never really goes away."

Riruka never spoke about where she came from. She ran the 'cutest' dress shop in Barcelona and that was all you needed to know about her, but every now and again she would let something slip, or you would catch a look on her face that hinted at what she was trying to forget.

"Love and pain go hand in hand, the more you care about someone the easier it is for them to hurt you, whether they mean to or not. And no one can promise to love you forever."

Those words sparked something inside Orihime. She resolved to make things right, no matter the cost.

"You know, you're really good at giving advice. Thank you Riruka."

The petite girl turned away, with a slight blush, uncomfortable with the praise.

"You're welcome." The pinkette responded curtly, once again getting to her feet, pointedly not looking at Orihime, "Now if you'll excuse me, I need go rescue Ishida." And then she rushed from the room.

Orihime chuckled and waved her goodbye. She pulled herself back onto her feet, straightening out her clothes and hair, and then headed out the door.

XxX

Ulquiorra wasn't sure if he even wanted her to come for him.

Everything would've been so much easier if they had left together. To be so close and yet so far from the woman he loved.

What made things worse was that Kurosaki brat. He knew she adored him, that they were close friends and that he was willing to fight with him to keep Orihime here.

It killed him to think that he was better for her. That the best thing he could do now was to give her up and leave Las Noches forever.

And then he heard her steps approaching, and in spite of himself he leaned into the stone wall, unsure of what to say. The theater chapel wasn't his best tunnel, he could hear through the walls and be heard well enough but he couldn't see the person on the other side. But he'd know Orihime anywhere.

He heard Orihime sit down in the center of the floor, just like she always did, on the other side. "I know you're here. This is where I could always find you when we first meet."

She had always been smart. Still, Ulquiorra stayed silent.

"You might not be in the mood to talk, I understand. But I really need you to listen. Listen to me Ulquiorra, and afterwards if you want us to part ways...I will accept it."

The hurt in her voice as she said that surprised him. Why would it pain her if he left? Shouldn't that make things easier?

"When we first met, I thought you were not of this realm. That maybe my brother sent you to me in my moment of despair. You became my teacher, and I thought that was all you'd ever be. Then you showed yourself to me, you let me into your world, into your life. I was a little overwhelmed, that you would trust me with so much. Still, I loved it. I loved being around you, singing by your side, even the quiet and more intimate moments were like a blessing."

The memories were still fresh in his mind as if they had taken place at that very moment. He held out his hand over his heart. There were times he doubted still having one, but whenever Orihime was with him, there was room no for doubt.

"You told me that out of all the wonderful things you've seen in the world I was the best one. The feeling is mutual, Ulquiorra."

His eyes widened at the confession. Surely she was lying, he knew who she truly loved, and it wasn't him.

"I know what you're thinking. 'My student must be lying because I know she had feelings for the Kurosaki boy'." She put on a gruff voice that he supposed was supposed to be an imitation of him.

"Yes, I won't deny there was a time I held a torch for him, but that was a long time ago. I care about Ichigo very much, still, I don't want to spend my life pining for a man who never truly looked at me. I want to spend my life with you Ulquiorra. You gave me a new purpose when I felt like giving up, taught me so much about the art and music I've loved my whole life, and gave me the confidence I never knew I had. I'm sorry if I hurt you, that was never my intention. But if fear can turn to love then can't love and pain intertwine? But for as long as I'm able, I want to give you all of my love."

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. He didn't understand what he was hearing.

"We'll have to fight to be happy. Society, people, and many other things will get in our way, but I am ready to take on all of them if you're with me. There's no one else I'd sing with Ulquiorra, without you, there is only silence."

He could hear standing, "You don't have to say anything right now, just remember my words, and please, believe them." He heard her footsteps moving back towards the stairs. But she paused. "I'll see you opening night I'm sure." And then she was gone.

How did she always do this? Leave him shaken and so unsure. All the way back to the first time she'd woken up in his lair, she had touched him, come close to him without fear. And then she had seen his face, the first person to do so since he donned his mask. And she had the gall to not be disgusted, like everyone else in his life, he had fully expected her to flinch back in disgust, to scream or faint and flee, proclaiming that she never wanted to see him again. But she had held me.

Put her tender hands on his face and held him. No one had ever done that before, even Harribel who was perhaps the closest thing he'd ever had to a mother. She'd not just kissed him, but she'd kissed his ruined and hideous flesh, and then told him she wasn't afraid.

Ulquiorra curled up on the floor, part of him wondering if it would be better if they'd never met. But the rest of him shut that thought down immediately, there was no version of his life where he didn't meet Orihime. No version that was worth seeing anyway. He just couldn't comprehend this woman, to be as bright and talented as Orihime, to have a world of opportunities in front of her, but still chose to love a creature like him.

But maybe... maybe it was okay for him to love her. Maybe it was possible for Ulquiorra to open himself, just to Orihime. But if she was willing to fight the darkness in him, then maybe he could do the same.

Ulquiorra pulled himself to his feet, straightening out his clothes and his mask. Opening night was tomorrow, he had work to do.

xXx

"I'm still thinking we should send her a bodyguard." Rukia told the group as she stared out the window.

Rehearsals were still on break since Orihime left. They all sat in the mezzanine, Ichigo was pacing back and forth around the charis, while Nel and Grimmjow kept on reading their scripts, trying to distract themselves.

"We need to stay calm. Inoue specifically told me that she didn't need the police or any of us looking after her. She'll be safe." Ichigo told them.

"I still can't believe she roasted you!" Grimmjow laughed.

That little comment sent the boys into yet another of their many fights. Nel rolled her eyes and walked towards Rukia.

"It'll be alright. Orihime's grown up a lot in these past few months. I think we all need to give her a little credit."

"Yes certainly," Rukia remembered how easily scared and how much of a cry baby Orihime used to be. Yet that had all vanished somehow, and while her friend retained her usual kindness and bubbly spirit, she wouldn't break down so easily.

'Just come back safe, Inoue. We'll all take care of the rest.'


	14. Past the Point of No Return

**I do not own Bleach or Phantom of the Opera.**

 **Thanks to everyone who has favourited and followed since the last chapter. This is the big climax folks, so please let me say a thank you to my Beta Shi-Daisy, I wouldn't have been able to write this much without her.**

* * *

It was a full house, or so the saying went. There was a paying customer in every seat and a police officer by every doorway. Urahara sighed into his hands and resisted the urge to reach for the brandy bottle on the table by the bookcase. Leaning back in his chair, Urahara looked around his office and bleakly thought about how excited he'd been the day he'd stepped into it the first time, when the opera business had been an exciting prospect.

The door opened and Aizen walked in, he didn't look nearly as distressed as Urahara felt he should. Aizen carried the lockbox with the nights' ticket sales and sealed it inside the wall safe.

"Well?" Urahara asked.

Aizen sighed as if he were displeased, with his back still to him. "Well, I think it's safe to say no one saw this coming."

Urahara narrowed his eyes at his partner. "You know I keep thinking about that chandelier."

Aizen finally turned to face him, his eyes just as bored and calculating as always. "I think current events prove that there are worse things than a shattered chandelier."

The air in the room froze. And the two men who had known each other for years wondered what was going on in the others head.

The sound of the Orchestra tuning their instruments alerted them to the beginning of the show. Urahara pushed himself out of his chair. "Shall we?"

"You go on ahead, I want to finish the books early tonight."

Urahara shrugged and made his way out of the office and to his box seats. Aizen would never join him for the show, and it wasn't until later Urahara remembered that he never actually saw Aizen close the safe.

* * *

Ichigo had already torn his program to shreds and was now working on wearing a hole in the floor of his box with how much he was bouncing his leg. Why were there so many people here? Did they not know a madman could jump out of the shadows at any moment? A cloud of despair promptly formed over the gingers' head as he realized that, no, that's exactly why they were here.

He took some comfort in the fact that Karin and Yuzu were home with his father. Rukia, he knew could take care of herself for the most part, and Byakuya was down there for whatever she couldn't handle. There were police officers and Las Noches staff posted at every possible place the Phantom could emerge from, as well as guarding everyone backstage. None of it made him feel better.

The opera that he wasn't really watching wasn't helping either. Now Ichigo made no pretense of being a connoisseur of the arts, his mother had loved the theater, which is why his father had invested so much money into places like this, in her memory, which had lead to him spending his teenagers years with the theater kids he now called his closest friends, but he could count the number of opera's he really knew on one hand. That being said, this was just... weird.

The scenery was draped in red and black, invoking images of fire, the music was almost an assault on the senses, but he still found himself being pulled in by it more than once. The actors and dancers moved about the stage in a strange almost manic manner. But that was all a backdrop to the two main characters.

Don Juan was a broken man in every sense of the word, and if it hadn't been Grimmjow playing him, Ichigo might have sympathized. The scenery and other characters were purposely twisted and demented to be a reflection of how our leading man saw the world or even a reflection of his inner world, he was barely hanging onto his sanity. At multiple points in the show, Don Juan went on solos and soliloquies about how he felt he was cursed and hell-bound.

But then the madness would fade and light would return when Don Anna was on stage. When Orihime was on stage. The narrative framed her like a saving grace for Don Juan, his feelings that if he could be close to her, even just a little, he would feel the salvation God had denied him.

It made Ichigo flinch in his seat, to watch Don Juan sing in longing for Don Anna, knowing who had written the words, knowing that this was a thinly veiled metaphor for Orihime.

Orihime was currently on stage, singing, she stood center stage clutching a letter to her chest, an invitation she had received earlier to come alone to Don Juan's mansion. It was a solo about Don Anna's attraction to Don Juan, how he felt familiar, how that familiarity reminded her of someone she had once known.

* * *

 _"Wishing you were somehow here again_

 _Wishing you were somehow near_

 _Sometimes it seems if I just dream_

 _Somehow you would be here_

 _Wishing I could hear your voice again_

 _Knowing that I never would_

 _Dreaming of you won't help me to do_

 _All that you dreamed I could"_

Nel felt tears brimming in her eyes as she listened to Orihime's song. Throughout the opera, Don Juan had been cursing his unhappy fate. Proclaiming that the only thing that kept him hanging on was the memory of Don Ana and his love for her, and the impossible dream that she could have ever felt the same.

And now, here on stage, the woman of his dreams was singing about how she missed the man he used to be, but more than that, she felt a desire to be closer to the man he was now. And Nel felt herself close to tears because she knew it wasn't just Don Juan and Don Anna, she'd heard hundreds of love songs in her life, and she knew that the kind of emotion that was written into this one couldn't be done so without genuine sincerity. And no one could sing those lyrics like Orihime was doing if they didn't feel the same emotions just as deeply.

You'd think it would be hard to do so, to temporarily forget that this music had been written by the Phantom who had crashed an engagement party, dressed like the red death, to coerce them into performing his twisted but haunting score. But if you did forget that for just a second, just listened to the words, the music, the way Orihime sang. You could just imagine it being the production of two people who loved the bones of each other.

Onstage Orihime belted out the last line of the number and the lights cut out, draping the stage in darkness, the sound of applause from an audience who had become just as swept up as Nel had filled her ears, but no one froze to enjoy it, the stagehands instantly went to work changing the scenery, and Orihime shot like a bullet in the direction of her dressing room. The redhead did have a costume change, but Nel still worried her lip at how the other girl had been holing herself up in her dressing room between her appearances on stage.

* * *

"Hold still," Ishida muttered around the hairpins between his teeth. He was fastening an arrangement of blue flowers into her styled hair. Orihime did her best to keep herself still, but her heart was beating so hard she was pretty sure it was causing her whole body to vibrate.

Outside her dressing room, Don Juan Triumphant was proceeding with its final act. Ichigo had told her that the police had kept any children or vulnerable citizens from attending the show, but when the curtains had risen Orihime could practically feel the auditorium bulging with people. It seemed the populace of Barcelona had come out in the hopes of another Phantom incident. Unfortunately for them, there hadn't been so much as a creak in the floorboards to indicate a certain masked individual was around, that didn't do anything to alleviate the nerves backstage, for the first time in a long time it felt like everyone wasn't staring at Orihime, instead they were looking all around, keeping their guards up. For what? Now that was the question.

Satisfied with her hair, Ishida moved onto painting her face and neck with makeup. Orihime moved away from wringing her hands and picking at her nail beds, trying to rein in her nerves, she spread her fingers out, feeling the fabric of her skirt. Her dress was a variation of the one she had been wearing the rest of the show, for her final appearance she literally shed her layers, losing the long sleeves, high neck and outer skirt of her previous outfit. She was tempted to say it was less of a dress and more of a shift, the bodice was cinched around her chest, laced up in the back like a corset, the flowing skirt went right down to her feet, but Ishida had bunched it up on one side, just below her knee, this kept her from tripping but also added the effect of a train. A white dress with a train and flowers in her hair. Orihime could see the thought reflected in Ishida's eyes as he stepped back to give her a look over. She looked like a bride on her wedding night.

He sighed deeply, crossing his arms over his chest, "You're ready." He told her reluctantly.

Raising from her chair, she pressed a kiss to her friend's cheek, "Thank you." She whispered.

Once she left the room she hovered outside the door, listening to the sounds of an opera in motion. In the past, Orihime had always thought that this time was Las Noches at it's best, when the building felt truly alive. Now it felt like it was holding its breath. Placing a hand over her chest, Orihime felt the shape of her hairpins under her dress, having pinned them to her underclothes for comfort and luck. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she made her way towards the wings. The show must go on.

:

Harribel listened to the chorus on stage, the climax was approaching. On stage the chorus sang the gossip of the townsfolk, snickering back and forth about Don Ana being seen entering the mansion. Once they left the stage there would be a moment of silence to build suspense, then Orihime would enter and 'The Point of No Return' would begin. But Harribel listened to everything from her particular spot backstage, which is why she was the only one who noticed Ulquiorra emerging from one of his best-hidden trap doors. He moved stealthily as always, blending into the dark and the crowd. Every pair of eyes had their attention fixed on the stage, which is why no one noticed him, nor did they notice when he felt Harribel's eyes on him and stopped in his tracks to return her gaze. No one noticed the silent exchange between the two, no one noticed when Harribel moved forward, not to stand in his way, but to place her hand on his cheek, to look upon the face of the boy she had saved for what she felt would be the last time. And for the heartbeat that this exchange lasted, Ulquiorra looked shaken, before an inner sense of urgency shook him into action, with one last look at the woman who had saved him, he slipped out of her grasp and into the dark.

* * *

The way the curtains were rigged and rejigged for the scenery created a small triangle that cut Grimmjow off from the rest of backstage. He didn't like being the cut-off or closed in feeling that standing there provided him with, but unfortunately, this was where he had to emerge from to make his damn dramatic entrance in this number, so he fidgeted on the spot waiting for the music to start so that they could all get this over with. They were so close to the end, and nothing had happened, maybe they'd luck out and the Phantom would just sit in his little rat hole and enjoy the ego stroke of listening to them sing his weird music.

Grimmjow felt something brush against his back, someone must be walking to close to the curtain, he was about to stick his head out and tell them to watch where they were walking, but before he could, someone forced themselves into the small space, Grimmjow felt a pair of arms wrap around his torso, and something like a damp cloth was pressed against his face. He began to struggle and kick, but whoever was holding his was strong, he tried to shout and cruse as he normally would in the face of unwanted touching, but there was a funny smell coming from the thing pressed to his face, and... it was... making...him...dizzy...

* * *

On stage, the scenery was set into place and the lights were brought up to a low setting. The scene was the interior of Don Juan's mansion in the evening. A low thrum of music emanated from the Orchestra pit signaling the beginning of the scene. Orihime counted the beats, waiting for her cue to step on stage, she sucked in a nervous breath, her hands felt clammy and her skin was prickling all over. She didn't know why she was so nervous, if Ulquiorra didn't make an appearance tonight then all she had to do was play out her part and end the opera with Grimmjow, and if he did show up she knew she had nothing to fear from him. So why was her heart trying to crawl its way up her throat?

Suddenly there was a hand on her back, Orihime twisted around and met the dark eyes of Rukia, her best friend offered up a supportive smile as she had done so many times in the past, Nel came up beside Rukia and gave Orihime a squeeze on the arm. Orihime felt her eyes beginning to water with gratefulness to her two friends, she quickly wiped at her eyes with the back of her wrist, pulled the gauzy wrap tighter around herself and tossed Nel and Rukia a thumbs up before she stepped out of the wings.

Taking a deep breath, Orihime began her song. _"No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy. No dreams within her heart but dreams of love!"_

Orihime moved across the stage as rehearsed, floating along in a carefree fashion, she even swished out her skirt as she walked for added effect. She approached the long table decked out with prop food, picking an apple from the top of the pile she made a show of shining it against her corset before sliding onto the bench. She faced the audience, rolled the apple between her hands and waited for Grimmjow to enter the scene.

 _"You have come here,"_

Orihime froze. That was not Grimmjow's voice.

"In pursuit of your deepest urge, In pursuit of that which till now has been silent."

Years of dance training took control of Orihime's muscles and stopped her from springing to her feet and confirming who was behind her. But there was no stopping the hammering of her pulse that was making her arms shake.

 _"Silent."_

Shivers licked her skin at the familiar tenor. Slowly, she rose back to her feet, sneaking a glimpse over her shoulder at her 'Don Juan'. Half blended into the shadows, Ulquiorra stood behind her, dressed in an all-black suit, a long cape slung over his shoulders, with a hood pulled up and over his face, it was only because she stood so close to him that she could see his masked face. She danced around him as the choreography dictated, praying that her face didn't give away her emotions.

 _"I have brought you_

 _That our passions may fuse and merge_

 _In your mind you've already succumbed to me_

 _Dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me"_

 _She heard his voice getting louder as he moved across the stage closer to her. She held the apple against her chest._

 _"Now you are here with me, no second thoughts_

 _You've decided,"_ He plucked the apple from her hand. _"decided"_

He was right behind her now, it was almost like the air around her became charged when he was close enough. Orihime took in a shuddering breath and did her best to keep her now empty hands from shaking.

 _"Past the point of no return,"_ He sang right into her ear. She shivered all over.

There was something rhapsodic to his voice tonight, an extra weight that she hadn't heard before, she couldn't be sure but it sounded like... anticipation. A hot flush of embarrassment burned her face and she threw her gaze downward on instinct.

 _"No backward glances,"_ His hand came under her came and he brought her eyes back to his concealed face.

 _The games we've played till now are at an end."_

On cue, all lights in the rigging died down, leaving her and Ulquiorra bathed in the dim light of the fake fireplace, finally, he stepped further downstage, placing himself directly across from her, their eyes locked onto each other, and every other set of eyes that were watching them vanished from Orihime's mind.

 _"Past all thought of if or when_

 _No use resisting_

 _Abandon thought and let the dream descend."_

With reflexes she didn't know a human could possess, his hands flashed out and pulled her close to him, her back pressed against his chest and his hand splayed out against the bare skin of her collarbone.

A gasp breached her lips, less in surprise and more in response to the sudden feeling of the skin of his fingertips touching the skin of her chest.

 _"What raging fire shall flood the soul?_

 _What rich desire unlocks its door?_

 _What sweet seduction lies before us-"_

She felt his breath against the back of her neck as he sang, his hand trailed her from across her collarbone, to her shoulder, and then down her arm as he pulled her along with him, he clasped her hand in both of his, bringing it close to his lips in an almost kiss, he was looking up at her through the shadows the hood threw across his face, his eyes were almost glowing with a distinct look to them, and when Orihime realized what that look was it sparked a heat in her. His eyes were smoldering.

 _"Past the point of no return_

 _The final threshold?_

 _What warm, unspoken secrets will we learn_

 _Beyond the point of no return?"_

But wait, something was wrong. She hadn't noticed it earlier, too caught up in the surprise of his presence, but now that they had slowed down, were actually looking at each other she could see it, or rather feel it. Just the slightest tremor in his hands, his eyes were fixed and heated, but the rest of his body seemed tense, just a little awkward in his posture.

Orihime almost sighed at the sudden realization, he didn't know how to touch her. He had before, but when he'd come to her back then it had been under a facade, he was in control because she couldn't really see him, but now here he was, just a man, laying himself out before her. And in that moment Orihime understood that even after everything, he was still afraid she'd reject him. It made her want to weep.

But tears would do nothing, and since more than just words were clearly necessary, she was just going to have to show him exactly what she was feeling. This was now her seduction.

She quickly pulled her hand from his grasp and backed away from him, he looked at her with a hurt expression but she held his gaze, wordlessly telling him to listen carefully. And then she began;

 _"You have brought me_

 _To that moment where words run dry_

 _To that moment where speech disappears into silence'"_

She brought a single finger up to her lip in a mimic of his earlier gesture,

 _"Silence,_

 _I have come here_

 _Hardly knowing the reason why,"_

She raised her hands above her head and then slowly slid them down her hair, which flowed right down to her bodice. As she sang the next line she slid her hands together over her chest, linking her fingers and then clasping her hands together, as if in prayer.

 _"In my mind I've already imagined our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent."_

Listen to what I'm saying, she silently willed him, as their eyes remained locked, You may have written them, but these are my words.

 _"And now I am here with you, no second thoughts_

 _I've decided,"_ She nodded her head, _"decided."_

Orihime walked backwards across the stage, gracefully sliding her feet across the boards, swaying her hips a little exaggeratedly for good measure.

 _"Past the point of no return_

 _No going back now_

 _Our passion play has now at last begun."_

Once she reached the banquet table she did a quick spin that flared out her skirt and jumped up onto the bench, spinning back around she stretched her arm forward, holding her hand out to Ulquiorra, beckoning him closer. He came towards her almost dazedly.

 _"Past all thought of right or wrong_

 _One final question_

 _How long should we two wait before we're one?"_

Once Ulquiorra was close enough she took his hand in hers and pulled him to sit down on the bench, she made a show of interlocking their fingers and then took hold of his other hand and guided it to rest on her side, she felt his fingers flex awkwardly against the fabric of her dress, but she didn't give him time to waver.

 _"When will the blood begin to race_

 _The sleeping bud bursts into bloom?_

 _When will the flames, at last, consume us?"_

That seemed to trigger something in him at last, Ulquiorra shook his hands from her guidance, taking her suddenly by the hips and pulling her close. Orihime grabbed him by the shoulders to steady herself. And with their faces close together they belted out the last lines of the opera.

 _"Past the point of no return_

 _The final threshold_

 _The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn_

 _We've passed the point of no return"_

The audience burst into applause, but Orihime could barely hear anything over the blood rushing in her ears, or the mix of her and Ulquiorra's heavy breathing. He was so close, still touching her, and the pupils of his mismatched eyes were blown wide with desire.

Without thinking, Orihime leaned forward. With equal lack of thought, Ulquiorra leaned his head back to meet her lips, but doing so caused the hood to slide fully off his head, and the applause was changed into screaming as his masked face was displayed to Las Noches.

Broken out of the trance she'd been in, Orihime began to pull back from Ulquiorra, only to have him pull her back against him as the crack of gunfire sounded off, even louder than the screams of the now fleeing audience. In a flash of movement, Ulquiorra was on his feet, picking Orihime up into a bridal carry and running off stage with her.

What happened next went by so quickly that Orihime could barely process it. Ulquiorra was trying to flee to one of his secret passageways she guessed, as he dived through the curtains and tried his hardest to dive into his familiar shadows, but all eyes were on him now and the shadows had receded. Everyone who had been backstage was gathering around him in a mob, Orihime felt his fingers dig into her skin through her dress, and she swore she could feel his heart beating like a hammer against an anvil in his chest. Someone, she couldn't make out who lunged towards them, but just as quickly Ulquiorra pulled out the arm that he'd been holding up her legs with, dropping her to the ground but keeping his other arm around her chest, he grabbed a gas lamp that had been sitting on a nearby table and hurled it onto the ground between them and the crowd. The flames burst out across the wooden floor.

Everyone shrieked and leaned away, giving Ulquiorra the chance to pull Orihime in the opposite direction of where he wanted to go, he ended up dragging her up the stairs. As they ran, Orihime heard shouts of 'put it out!' and 'watch the curtains!".

Now Orihime liked to think she was in fairly good physical shape, but the pace at which Ulquiorra scaled that wooden staircase, his grip on her hand tighter than chains, she felt like he was going to pull her arm out of its socket.

They reached the small platform where you could either go down the hallway to the dormitories of Las Noches, or you could continue up the stairs and find yourself on the roof.

"Ulquiorra." Orihime panted out, her shortness of breath finally catching up to her.

He slowed his pace only enough to look over his shoulder, and she must have looked worse than she realized because he stopped running, he turned and took hold of her by her upper arms, waiting for her to continue, but suddenly she was breathing heavily and the stress and confusion of the situation was keeping her from summoning words. He looked over her with an emotion she couldn't place, he opened his mouth to speak, but another voice.

"Orihime!"

They both turned to see Ichigo Kurosaki, rounding the corner of the last flight of stairs the thundering of other footsteps close behind him. Ulquiorra's hold on Orihime instantly tightened, and she sensed he was about to run again.

Sensing the same thing, Ichigo shouted out again, "Just let her go! There's nowhere to run!"

A police officer with bright red hair came up behind Ichigo, "He's up here!" He shouted down the stairwell.

The smallest shudder went through Ulquiorra before he took off running again with Orihime in tow. The police were hot on their heels. Soon they were at the end of the line, Ulquiorra threw himself against the door and then they were on the roof. Even with the amount of adrenaline pumping through her system the sudden cold of the wind was almost enough to make her freeze in place. If Ulquiorra hadn't pulled her along the walkway.

"Ulquiorra stop!" Shouted over the roar of the wind, but he kept moving. "Where are we going?"

She tugged on his arm and planted her feet forcing him to look back at her. The wind had made his usually slick hair unkempt, his already pale skin was flushed and his lips were set into a grim line.

"We need to get away from them." He answered panicked.

"And go where?" She asked again.

"We need to get off the roof." He rambled on as if he hadn't heard her.

"How?" She asked more insistently. But he was spiraling, his eyes were losing focus. He had become so used to playing the untouchable phantom that to be so brutally reminded of how human he was had pulled the floor out from under him. Orihime tried to bring him back to her, she grabbed him by the face and pulled him in close enough that they were practically sharing breaths. She opened her mouth to speak but another voice sounded from behind them.

"Orihime!"

She spun around in reaction, and even though the wind blinded her with her own red hair she recognized the voice.

"Ichigo, No!" She shouted back, stopping the red-haired man in his tracks, "It's pointless." Orihime tried to shout those words to but she was suddenly feeling very drained, being caught between the two of them.

Orihime could have talked to Ichigo, she really believed she could make him understand that she was with Ulquiorra by choice, but Ulquiorra didn't give her a chance, he bodily shoved her behind him.

"She sang for me tonight," Ulquiorra near growled, "She's mine."

Ichigo held his hands up placatingly, "Exactly, you heard her sing. You must realize the kind of future someone with her talent could have, and what kind of future does she have if she goes with you?"

Orihime felt Ulquiorra's fingers flex where they rested atop her skin, and she saw a shadow flit across his face, but any vulnerability evaporated with Ichigo's next words.

"Have some compassion." He said in a hushed tone, taking a step forward.

"The world had no compassion for me!" Ulquiorra roared in response. He hurled forward and the two collided.

Orihime shrieked as the two came perilously close to going over the edge of the walkway, which would have sent them sliding off the roof. So caught up in the fight, she didn't notice the uniform-clad figures of the police officers fanning out across the lower tier of the roof, surrounding the three above them.

"Hold your fire until you have a clear shot!" Ordered Captain Kuchiki.

Amidst the howling wind and the wafting smell of smoke, Ichigo Kurosaki and the Phantom of Las Noches came to blows, they were fairly matched physically, and both were standing on bad footing, they both did their best to wound the other without falling themselves. And both were equally at risk. Orihime felt like her entire chest was crack apart and collapse in on itself. She couldn't move from the fear, the sight of the two of them, the man she had once loved so hopelessly, and the man for whom her feelings were so much more complicated.

Her eyes stung, and choking sounds flooded from her mouth, and she shook as she screamed, "Stop it! If you love me then, please! Just stop!"

Both of them froze and looked back at her. She could barely see in front of her, blinded by the tears in her eyes. But the three of them hung suspended in that position, almost cut off from the rest of the situation. Until a shot rang out.

Orihime couldn't see who'd been shot, she didn't see who fell first but they both went over the side. Another shot went off as Orihime screamed again, she dove forward, her hands thrown out, a prayer running through her mind that she could grasp them.

She hit the roof stomach first, just a few feet from the edge, she slid forward dangerously and by some divine blessing, her skirt caught on the shingles and stopped her from following them over. Once she braced her hands on the roof and began to carefully inch her way forward, she saw a set of fingers, straining to grip the edge of the roof. Leaning forward just enough, she was greeted with the sight of Ichigo holding on with one hand while the other held onto Ulquiorra who dangled below him.

Orihime let out a wordless cry and grabbed Ichigo's forearm with both her hands and pulled him upwards with all her might, Orihime looked down at Ulquiorra as she tried to hold onto them both, to see if he was in any pain, but what she saw surprised her. He didn't seem pained, or worried, of frantic, or any of the other emotions that had been mixed up in him only moments ago. he was just looking at her, as if he was trying to memorize her face.

Orihime's eyes widened in fear, but before she could call out to him, Ulquiorra let go of Ichigo and plummeted down to the lower tier of the roof. With his other hand now free, Ichigo hauled himself back up onto the same level as Orihime and quickly tried to pull her away from the edge, but she fought against him, determined to keep Ulquiorra in her sights.

The minute he hit the ground the police swarmed on him, but he was quick. Springing back onto his feet and dodging each one that came to close to him, but there were so many. More gunshots were fired and at one point Ulquiorra flinched in a way that made Orihime sure that he had been hit. She thought Ichigo might have yelled out at them not to fire, but everything suddenly sounded so far away. The police corralled him up against the edge of the roof, and this time if he fell there would be nothing but air and pavement to meet him. Orihime dug her fingers so hard into Ichigo's arms that she must have hurt him, but he kept his hold on her. Ulquiorra was wearing dark clothes, which made it hard to see him against the night sky. But as he stood there, on the edge of nothing, she swore she could make out every detail of his figure as he stuffed a hand into his pocket, drew it out again and held it above his head, clenched into a fist like there was a surprise inside. And then he opened in to reveal nothing. One of the police officers, no one knew who, fired his gun, and Ulquiorra went tumbling over the edge.

Orihime screamed until her throat went raw, she cried and cried until her eyes went dry, and she could do nothing more than hiccup and heave. Ichigo held her tightly through all of it. He held her in that one spot until the police came and got them, and then he carried her away, because Las Noches was on fire apparently, and they had to get to safety.

But Orihime only found that out later, when she was tucked up in a hospital bed, with Ichigo and Rukia, and Nel and Yoruichi hovering over her like... like angels. Orihime's memories of being carried out of the opera were a blur, and the one thing she wanted to forget was the one that was crystal clear in her mind. The last sight she would ever see of Ulquiorra Schiffer. The police were still searching the remains of Las Noches, and while they had discovered some of the doorways which lead to his underground home, they hadn't found a body. Ulquiorra seemed to truly have become a phantom, in the end, vanishing without a trace.

In the early hours of the morning, when the sun was just barely starting to rise, everyone else had succumbed to the exhaustion of the last few hours, passed out and breathing heavily around Orihime's bed. Orihime sat up with a weary look on her face, she watched her loved ones. Ichigo and Rukia were in each other's arms in the chairs beside her bed, in the empty bed next to hers, Yoruichi had curled up like a cat at the foot while Nel snored lightly into the pillow. Moving carefully, Orihime got out of bed and left the room, she wandered the near-empty hallways of the hospital until she found a totally deserted room. Kneeling down in the middle of the floor, she looked up at the blank walls, lacking murals and probably solid all the way through. Nevertheless, Orihime sucked in a shaky breath and began to sing.

 _"In sleep, you sang to me,_

 _In dreams, you came,_

 _Your voice called out to me, and spoke my name,_

 _And do I dream again..."_

Orihime sat in silence, logically she knew. She knew that there would be no answering voice, that she couldn't just wish for him and he would appear out of the darkness and make everything as it had been. But she'd needed to try, for that small part of her that had truly believed he would.

"It's over now." Orihime whispered to no one, "The music of the night."


End file.
